


To Start Again

by NightFire



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Suicide, Time Travel Fix-It, Trespasser DLC, Unreliable Narrator, but fix-it so they all come back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5299337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFire/pseuds/NightFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having lost everything in her attempts to bring about peace, Azrael Lavallan finally gives up. Yet fate has more in store for her, as she is sent back to the beginning of her quest. With her twin as Inquisitor this time around, she attempts to guide him to a better ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Suicide

She walked calmly through the empty halls of Skyhold, lingering in memories of a better time. The old castle had long been a base of operations and a place of refuge, but now it lay vacant, crumbling in places where the siege had hit it worst. It seemed as if discovering Solas’s plot had been the tipping point that caused everything to fall apart.

At the time it seemed the only way to stop him was to use the full force of the Inquisition to track him down. Yet when she made it clear to the Exalted Council she would not disband, both Orlais and Ferelden decided it was not worth the risk to let the Inquisition continue and declared war. Many of her forces fled, but having the backing of Leliana as the Divine, and her previous triumph in saving the world, many stayed to fight for her. Most of her inner circle also stayed to stand by her side, but Dorian needed to return to Tevinter and take his father’s place as Magister and The Iron Bull and his Chargers went with him. On paper it was to continue mercenary work, but really Bull wished to protect Dorian and stay close to his lover.

At first the war was in the Inquisition’s favor. Skyhold was an incredibly fortified location, and the Inquisition had camps and forts all over both countries. However the distance between her forces was also her downfall. Her enemy was able to focus on each stronghold individually and destroy it before reinforcements could arrive. Several years passed as the Inquisition grew smaller and smaller as it fought a losing war. Even their best strategies only delayed the inevitable. Adding insult to injury, Solas slowly ate away at her forces as well. Breeding lies and stealing away the elves, the Inquisition stood on weak legs. As the last year wore on, news was sent that the Qunari had attacked Tevinter. Dorian, Iron Bull, and the Chargers were lost in the battle for the capital. Then tragedy after tragedy befell the inner circle as member after member was lost to the war. The siege of Skyhold ended the organization, finally taking out the last of her troops and friends. Morrigan's last act had been to force open the Eluvian with the power of the Well of Sorrows and push her through before shattering it. Lavellan had spent some time after that wandering  the Crossroads despondently before finding a conveniently unlocked Eluvian. And so finally Lavellan was left alone.

 

Left empty and grieving, Azrael felt defeated. All she had worked so hard for seemed so worthless without her friends or heart. She felt no reason to keep fighting. In the end she was just so tired of everything. So she decided that there was no reason to keep going and made her way back to Skyhold for one last time. It was hard to find a rope in the fallen fortress, but eventually she found one long enough to string from the top of the rookery so she could die in his rotunda. She wrote a simple note to Solas, should he ever come to find her. All it said was “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, ma vhenan.”

As Lavellan stood at the edge of the rookery balcony, her spirit burned with rage and fear. She wanted nothing more than to scream at the injustice of the world. _How could everything be taken from her so easily?_ She had lost her twin, lost her clan, lost her lover, lost so much of herself to be the “perfect” leader, lost the inquisition, lost her friends, and now she would truly lose everything else. She had always put others before herself, and did her best to never show weakness, hiding her true emotions away. Even her last plan to save the world had been so that others may be happy. She could have spent her time hunting Solas ruthlessly, or made peace with Fereldan and Orlais. Instead she had wanted to continue to help heal the world, and perhaps even save the man she loved from losing himself. But I wasn’t even able to save myself. I won’t even get to see him one more time before I die. And so she screamed internally, even as outwardly she closed her eyes serenely and let go.

  


Dying had been surprisingly easy. She had jumped, felt a sharp pain, and then nothing. She no longer hurt, or really felt much of anything. When she tried to open her eyes nothing happened. _How can I open my eyes if I don’t have eyes?_ She rationalized. _But then how can I still think? I have to still exist to have thought right?_ As she puzzled over this another thought struck her that as far as she could recall didn’t come from her.

_What if you could try again?_

_What do you mean, try again?_

_So much sadness and grief to accomplish very little. Wouldn’t it be better if everyone could be happy?_

_Of course, but that’s not how this works._ Trying to argue with what almost seemed like her own thoughts was a bit disconcerting, but Lavellan couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope over the words. What if she could go back?

_How would you know about how Death works? Most people who have come here don’t come back._

_So is that what you are? Death?_

_Perhaps, but that is irrelevant. Would you try again?_

_Yes. Of course yes_.

She received a weird sense of approval, before a flash and the world came into focus.

  


She looked around at the familiar stretch of forest she knew to be just outside the area where her clan frequently settled for winter. Yet something wasn’t entirely right. She felt, different...stronger, but lighter, and the world seemed more colorful, as if all her senses had been heightened. She looked down at herself and blinked rapidly in shock to try and clear away the vision. Her body was composed of pure white light, traced with the familiar green of the Rift. Unlike before, however, the tendrils of the mark weren’t jagged biting lightening, but smooth natural flowing patterns in constant motion. It rippled over, and in her light, forming beautiful swirls and filigree.

She looked around the forest again and purposefully concentrated on changing the scene to that of Haven. Seamlessly the world shifted as trees melted into frost covered buildings. Familiar people wandered by, but no one saw her. It was easy to conclude that she was now a spirit in the Fade. _How is this supposed to help?_ She wondered in exasperation _. I have no idea how to talk to living people like this, or how to work the fade._ Suddenly however a thought struck her. _Death said I was trying again? When is this? Was I sent back? I think I still have the mark, though it’s certainly different now. If I went back far enough, I can stop myself from getting it in the first place and….and then no one will be able to close the rifts, if I’m stuck on this side of the veil...How did Cole make it over and not be translucent or demony? Compassion possessed apostate Cole, to be more human and help. So what if I possessed someone? Though I can’t just take someone random against their will. Nor would it be very helpful to possess a corpse.....Myself!! I can take over my old self!_

With the beginnings of her plan in mind Azrael decided she needed to know more about her new self in order to put it into effect. Moving about the fade was incredibly easy. In fact, it took a great deal of willpower not to think about places too deeply, or else she would end up there. The first thing she did was find out when she was by using the mark to spread the veil thin, without breaking it open. Peering out at her clan, she was happy to discover she had several months until the conclave. Plenty of time to figure out this spirit business and still save the world. Other spirits were friendly and eager to talk about themselves, and she found she wasn’t so afraid of demons any more. On this side of the veil they were just manifestations of human emotion, and not being a human anymore herself they saw no need to try and tempt her.

Manipulating the Fade in other ways was remarkably simple as well. A thought, and everything was laid out before her. She relived memories for a time, but decided to was unwise to dwell too deeply in the past. She attempted to cast magic and the elements of the fade obeyed easily, though she was unsure if they would respond on the other side of the veil.

While she found it possible to look like anything she wanted, Azrael had willed herself to look more like her old self, but had left the shifting mark to crawl over her skin like climbing vines. She had experimented with it a little and had learned she could still open and close the veil, but decided not to do it too often as other spirits clustered close if she left it open for extended periods. They had even tried to get through the rift, and she knew it would be best to not let them out. Exploring the fade in more depth, Azrael stumbled upon sleeping mages every so often. Mostly she avoided their dreams, not wanting to interfere. Yet anytime she saw a demon trying to tempt one of them she adjusted the dream enough to warn the mage away from making a terrible choice. Often times she considered finding one of her old friends. Maybe see Dorian or Vivienne and warn them of the future. But every time she thought about it, she shied away from the idea. The people of this time were not the same people as the ones she had lost. They would have no reason to trust her, and Vivienne would likely think her a demon, so she cast that plan aside.

She also spent the time learning about the history of Thedas. The fade was full of memories and it was a simple matter to watch them with her new power. She made friends with several spirits of wisdom as well. It was easy to see why Solas loved the fade so much and wanted the old world back from all she learned. However she also learned how the ancient elves had been just as flawed as the world was now, and knew she still had to change his mind.

Finally Azrael knew she had to find herself and set her plan in motion.

  


The one thing she hadn’t counted on was how differently time passed in the fade. As she peered through the veil into the conclave she felt the unmistakable crackle of veil energy. _NO! No, no no! It’s not supposed to happen yet! My second chance and I’ve already fucked this up!_ She searched frantically through the temple until she found her old self. She was sitting on the bed in the servant’s chamber humming softly and sharpening her great sword. _But if the explosion is supposed to happen now, I should be in the inner chamber with Corypheus…_ She had no more time to think over what was happening as she felt the shockwave reverberate through the fade, and running on pure instinct and panic, Azrael opened the veil and pulled her young self through just as fire roared through the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

_Oh no, what did I do?! Fenedhis!_

“What was that?! Where am I?” Her younger self looked around in confusion, lifting her blade in a defensive position.

“Um...Well the conclave just exploded and this is the fade…” Azrael decided there was no good way to explain the situation other than the flat out truth. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’m you from the future and I need my, your, our, body back in order to save the world.” Her younger self looked at her suspiciously.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? Gabriel has said demons trick those who come into the Fade so that they can possess them.” Spirit Azrael sighed and focused on staying calm as she let their childhood play out around them as she spoke.

“While a demon would try to trick you, I can assure you I will not.” As the memories shifted from childhood into the events of the Inquisition her younger self looked around in amazement. “I will not lie to you. This is the future I lived through and hope to change. I wish to make things better and for that I need your help. I do not know what will happen if you accept, but I promise you things will be different this time around.” The memory ended as Azrael died and the fade shifted into a calm forest. The younger elf gulped, looking around at the fade and lowering her sword. She took a long time to decide, but spirit Azrael was not keen on pushing her. Forcing a decision would make her out to be demon make her younger self even more wary. Finally the younger elf nodded her head in acceptance, a determined fire in her eyes.

“Someone would have to be crazy to fake all of that, and a demon wouldn’t show me my death to entice me. Or at least I hope so… So you may do as you wish.” She smirked roguishly and offered her hand. “Let’s save the world again.”

The spirit took her hand and smirked back as they shook.


	2. Chapter 2

Having a body back was like being curled up comfortably in a warm blanket. Azrael  flexed her fingers and saw the mark skitter above her skin, now contained and a magic all her own. There was no more younger and older self, just Azrael Lavellan and she smiled brightly. _Time to get down to business._

__

She looked carefully through the veil at Haven. Everything was in chaos as people ran about trying to help the injured and organize soldiers. She carefully opened a small rift in a quiet corner behind the apothecary's hut, and stepped out of the Fade. The world spun dangerously as the Fade tugged at her spirit almost pulling her back, but the connection snapped as the rift shut. She swayed for a moment trying to get her bearing. The world was brighter than she remembered, the vivid colors of the fade bleeding into her vision. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the world outside the fade, world fading back into more normal colors.

Breathing in the cold familiar air of the mountains Azrael decided that the first thing she needed to do was find whoever had gotten the mark. Because while it hadn't been her, the conclave had been destroyed and the breach sat angrily in the sky which meant that someone had to have stopped Corypheus. Slipping around the building Azrael easily blended in with the crowd of frightened refugees. She kept her ears twitching for information and was relieved to hear that someone had fallen out of the breach. However, no one seemed to know who it was, or even what race they had been. She began to formulate a plan to get into the chantry dungeon and find out, when the voices around her grew quiet as eyes trained in on two figures walking toward the main gates. She followed their gazes and gasped in shock, unable to stop his name from tumbling from her lips.

“Gabriel?!”

His gaze met her’s across the crowd of people. “Azrael!” She threw herself across the distance and crushed him with a hug. “I thought you were dead Az. They said everyone at the temple died and I….” She had so much she wanted to tell him. _I haven’t seen you in 7 years! I missed you so much! So much has happened! You wouldn’t believe all that I did!_ Instead she quickly made up a lie to explain how she had lived. Her true story was one for a later date.

“I went out for some fresh air and then everything exploded! I thought _you_ were dead!”

“As touching as this reunion is, we must get to the breach before the mark gets any worse.” A stern and familiar voice broke her away from her twin. Cassandra Pentaghast stood firmly, a hand resting on the sword at her hip. Azrael could almost feel the nervous tension coming off of her. She bit back the tears that threatened at seeing her old friend alive and well. The image of her blood splashing across the steps of Skyhold flashed in her eyes. This wasn’t the woman who had fought by her side all those years, this was a stranger with a familiar face. Azrael realized she would be meeting a lot of people like that in the time to come.

“Well I’m coming with you...um what’s the mark?” She said with feigned ignorance. _Well it’s the thing that messed up my life, but what do you think it is?_ Her brother smiled down at her.

“We’ll explain on the way.” He said gently in his ‘I’m older by 5 minutes so I’m responsible and you shouldn’t worry’ voice. To Azrael it meant he thought he was in control, even though he really wasn’t. Cassandra gave her a suspicious look, not ready to trust an armed conspirator to her prisoner.

“If you so much as look at your blade, I will not be unjust in cutting you down.” She warned, but Azrael easily nodded, not wanting to be left behind.

As they walked out of the gates Cassandra cut Gabriel’s bonds and promised him a trial. It was all so surreal to Azrael, seeing her past played out by another. Gabriel was doing his best to explain what he could with Cassandra pitching in, but halfway up the path he fell to his knees as the mark flared.

“Are you okay?” Azrael asked dropping down next to him.

“Eh, I’ve had worse.” He tried to play it off, but his voice was strained. She reached out for his hand and helped him up. As he stood she pushed her magic against his unstable mark and urged it to untangle from her twin. As wild as the breach was, it wouldn’t fully come off, but she could tell the magic to hurt him less. When he stabilized the breach she should be able to take it off, but should she? She’d have no way to explain her own ability to close rifts without telling them everything about herself, and that was going to end poorly. A question for later she decided as they began to walk again.

When they reached the bridge she placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder to stop him. As he opened his mouth to ask why, a flaming chunk tore from the breach and shattered the bridge. Two shades burst forth from the frozen river and she and Cassandra jumped down to engage them. Falling into the rhythm of combat was easy. Azrael had many years to adapt to fighting demons, so with two solid hits the shade dropped. Her younger body felt weaker and unused to her fighting style, but nothing some training couldn’t fix. She looked up to see the shade Cassandra was facing freeze solid and explode to dust. Gabriel trotted up to her side, a simple staff clasped in his hands foraged from the supplies dropped from the bridge. Suddenly the Seeker pointed her sword at them.

“Drop your weapon. Now.” He slowly bent to place the staff on the ground, and Azrael lowered her own sword.

“As you say, but I don’t need a staff to fight.”

“Wait. There will likely be more demons and I cannot protect you. Nor can I expect you to be defenseless.” Gabriel smiled at her brightly and quickly picked up the staff again.

They made quick progress through the next few patches of demons. Gabriel did his best to lighten the situation, but Cassandra was not in the mood for witty one-liners and sent him exasperated looks. Azrael smiled at everyone, however. It had been far too long since she had heard her brother’s voice and she could only imagine part of what made Cassandra so exasperated was her brother’s similarity in humor to a certain red haired dwarf.

“We’re getting close to the rift, you can hear the fighting. We must help them, get ready.” Cassandra hefted her shield as they reached the top of the stairs. Azrael took a sharp intake of breath. _Oh no. He’s just over that ridge. What am I going to do? Fenhedis, calm down and just ignore him and fight._ As she lept over the ledge and began to hack away at the demons, Azrael carefully avoided moving her gaze over to where she knew the bald elf was firing off spells. She could feel the pull of the rift and nearly raised her own arm to close it as the last of the demons were finished off. However the man she had been avoiding stepped forward to grab Gabriel’s arm and lift it to the rift. Her own magic crackled as it closed, and she quickly clamped down on it to stop the mark from appearing.

"What did you do?" Gabriel wondered in amazement flexing his hand.

"I did nothing. The credit is yours." Solas's voice was all she remembered it to be. Smooth and gentle with a rhythmic sincerity and underlying humor. _He’s exactly as a I remember. The man who will love me, but never be with me._ Lost temporarily in her reverie she missed most of what was said about the mark and breach, tuning back in as Varric introduced himself with his usual flair. Azrael wanted to rush forward and hug him, but again restrained herself. If this was her reaction to every member of her inner circle, not only was this going to be a lot harder, but Bull and Leliana would see right through her.

Gabriel brightened considerably to meet someone who would joke back to him. "And I'm Gabriel Lavellan: mage extraordinaire. The quiet one with the big sword is my twin Azrael. Nice crossbow by the way."

“Isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

“I never named my staffs before. Bianca seems oddly appropriate though.” Azrael found herself thinking of her old sword Certainty. While she hadn’t named it herself, the name had been so fitting it had stuck even after the adjustments made to it. Varric gave a chuckle and smiled.

“I’ve always thought so, and she’ll be great company in the valley.” Cassandra however was having none of that.

“Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”  
“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldier aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Varric interrupted her before she could continue her rant against him, slightly smug in his assertions. She scowled at him and made a disgusted noise before storming off to check on the the other soldiers. Seeing a break in the conversation, Solas stepped forward.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live." Azrael’s fists curled painfully as she listed the rest of his titles in her mind. _Fen’Harel, Dread Wolf, Vhenan, ma lath, liar…_

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’” Varric quipped.

“You must know a great deal about magic then! What do you know about the mark? How does it connect to the rifts in the veil?” Gabriel practically bounced with excitement at the prospect of learning more about magic. While she had always wanted to know about everything she could, he had tended to focus in on magic. He said concentrating on one thing let him learn more, and questioned why he might need to learn things that wouldn’t be useful later. She gave an exasperated sigh, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“ _Abelas_ , Solas. There should be a thank you in there somewhere for saving my idiot brother’s life.” As he turned his smile on her, she clenched her fist further to stop herself from throwing herself at him. Whether she wanted to kiss him, or punch him in the face, she couldn’t quite decide.

“There is no need to apologize for someone wanting to learn. Though perhaps thanks should be reserved until we manage to close the Breach, without killing him in the process. To answer a few of your queries, the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Though you are a mage I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power as to rip open the veil.” She bit down quickly on her snort of laughter turning it into a cough. _It was most certainly a mage that did this. Besides, even augmented by red lyrium and blight, Corypheus’s power barely holds a candle to your own when you are at full strength._ Cassandra, having wandered back over, gave a thoughtful noise though.

“We must get to the forward camp quickly. This way, down the bank.” She announced brusquely before moving off, the ragtag party following behind.

The rest of the journey passed in a flurry of battles and attempts at small talk. More than once Azrael caught herself wanting to just open a rift and end the confrontations easily. With her control it would be so simple to just suck the demons back into the fade, but that would lead to far too many difficult questions. She only wished she at least had a better sword. If not Certainty, then at least one of her other giant longswords. The smaller ironbark blade felt too light and small in her hands, as she had come to prefer a weapon at least as tall as she was.

The light conversation was mostly directed at Gabriel and so she stayed quiet for the most part. It was difficult to pretend not to know all about the people who had fought by her side for years. She mentally thanked the Bull for teaching her the basics of Ben-Hassrath emotion hiding. She had always been an open book about what she had been feeling before, but now she could hide her sadness behind a mask of indifference. Though she knew she wasn’t anywhere close to being good enough to fool the Iron Bull when Gabriel recruits him. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to pry too deeply about why she became so sad when she was around the others and come up with his own assumptions.

Once they reached the forward camp Azrael did her best to tune out Chancellor Roderick. She knew the man wasn’t all bad, but his ranting about beheading her brother wasn’t the most pleasant thing to hear. She looked down at Varric beside her and made a face of comic exasperation. He blinked in surprise, but then snorted. She realised this was the first time she had tried to be funny with him. She must have seemed so serious coming up here, no wonder he was surprised. She remembered how in the time before it had taken a long time for her to open up to her inner circle. When she finally did however Varric commented on how much more fun she had been to be around. Small sarcastic quips and funny faces behind people’s backs were her speciality. Now that she had no burden to be the Herald or Inquisitor she realized she had much more freedom to goof off this time around.

“Any ideas Az?” Gabriel turned to her breaking her train of thought. “Charge ahead, or take the mountain path?”

“We’ll lose more soldiers with a full frontal attack, but we will be faster. We are a pretty powerful group and could make it through the mountains with little difficulty, but it will take longer. If you can hold out, I’d say the mountains are the better option.” She said laying out her thought process the last time she had been faced with this choice. Cassandra and Leliana looked at her with surprise, but approval, not expecting her to think out the options like she had.

“The mountains it is than. You guys up for a climb?” Gabriel was smiling from ear to ear. It still baffled Azrael how he could always look happy in terrible situations.

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker.” Spat Roderick as they walked away. Azrael just rolled her eyes, he was all hot air really.

“ _Pala adahl’en.*_ ” She muttered. Apparently not quietly enough, as in front of her Solas stumbled in shock and nearly tripped. He faced her and gave her a quizzical look, and she stared right back with a look of complete innocence. “What?”

“Did you really just say…? No, nevermind.” He turned to face forward again and she smirked evilly. Varric raised a brow at her in a clear question, but she just shrugged.

Fighting through the old mines and saving the scouts was fairly straight forward. It felt easier than before, but she couldn’t tell whether that was because she was a better fighter, or because knowing what was going to happen made it seem much less dire.

The Temple of Sacred Ashes was just as terrible as she remembered unfortunately. The dead frozen in expressions of fear, with the breach sputtering angrily above was not a pleasant sight. _And to think that this was the better alternative. If Corypheus had died, Solas would have done much worse. He still wants to so much worse._ She stared at the back of the man in question. Even after all this time she couldn’t fully understand him. Yes it would be better without the veil. Yes it would better without the blight. Yes the elves deserved so much better and sometimes the world was shit. But what he had in mind was so much worse. The death of so many just to relive what he remembered to be the glory days. As nice as Arlathlan had been, there were just as many problems then as now.

“If you stare any harder he’s bound to catch fire.” Varric murmured to her with a smirk. She felt her ears heat up and averted her gaze so she was no longer boring holes in Solas’ back.

“I was doing no such thing.” She hissed back. His rebuttal was cut off when they rounded the corner of the ruins to see the breach up close. Voices sounded behind them and Leliana came running up with her scouts. _Time to fight a pride demon. Not too bad, I could fight these things in my sleep. Once you fight three at once, one hardly seems a challenge._

“This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” Cassandra asked of Gabriel, not knowing how far from the end they truly were.

“I’m not sure where to start with this thing. I don’t imagine there is a safe way to get up to it?” Azrael could hear the uncertainty in his voice and settled a hand on his shoulder in silent comfort.

“No. This rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the breach.” Solas’ voice was steady even if she knew the old wolf was as in the dark about how this magic worked as the rest.

“Then let’s find a way down. And be careful.” Cassandra was definitely worried, tension practically radiated off of her. Walking down the path, Corypheus’ voice bounced around them, reliving some of the memory from when the breach was created. The others were uneasy, but Azrael had seen so much weird shit, this barely counted as worth fearing. The red lyrium however made her skin crawl. Growing out of her friends in the false future, or disfiguring innocent Templars she absolutely detested the stuff. Getting even closer to the breach Azrael could feel her mark thrumming and crackling. The part of her that was the Fade and the mark combined demanded she fix it, and it took a great deal of concentration to stop herself from simply shutting it. She was not the hero of this story and needed to stay back, but her spirit side rebelled at not fixing what she so obviously could.

When they jumped down to the rift she bit down on her tongue and centered herself on the pain. Willing herself to stay normal and not reveal the mark, start glowing, or do anything else suspiciously spirity. They watched the memory fragment and Solas explained that they needed to open the rift to properly seal it. She hefted her sword as Gabriel raised his hand to the rift.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Elven Translations~  
> Pala adahl’en~ "Go fuck a forest"


	3. Chapter 3

The battle was not going well. It had been difficult before, but this was impossible. She hadn’t remembered that this pride demon had impenetrable armor. Even when Gabriel disrupted the rift and weakened it, their weapons did next to nothing. The battle had gone on too long and the soldiers were flagging. Gabriel and Solas had very little mana, and the archers very few arrows. Azrael swore under her breath. She was being held back by the inexperience of her younger body. While she had a great deal of experience fighting in a group like this, and against demons, her muscles strained as she tried to use them in new ways. But if things kept going as they were she needed her full strength. If only she had a proper sword, something with proper weight and runes, then she could tear this thing to shreds. At the loss of focus on it her mark flared and all of a sudden the sword in her hands shifted. Longer and heftier the spectral image of Certainty formed around her smaller blade. It felt real however and Azrael was reminded of Vivienne’s knight enchanter blades. She had willed her old sword out of the Fade. _Huh…_ She wasn’t given more time to think it over as the demon roared. Gabriel lifted his hand to disrupt the rift again and she grinned predatorily at the Pride demon. Placing the weight of her sword on her shoulder she beckoned to the demon with her free hand. _Come and get me._

It laughed and charged at her. Someone might have shouted in alarm, but her focus was locked on her enemy. It swung out a clawed hand to swat at her and she reached out with her own hand to grab at the spikes along its arm. Pulling herself up easily she swung around onto its wrist as it tried to dislodge her. She climbed deftly, making her way to the demon’s head just as the disrupted rift tore away its armor. She yelled a challenge and plunged her sword into its skull. Fire from the runes burst out along with foul ichor, but she clung on until the pride demon gave its last howl and fell. She drew her sword out with a ‘sprrggg’ of broken bone and flesh, or whatever demons were made of. The outline of Certainty faded now that it was not needed and sheathing her blade she looked up to see everyone staring at her incredulously.

“Are we going to stand around all day or are you going to close that thing Gabe?” Her voice sounded forced even to her. Gabriel frowned uncertainly but turned back to face the rift. Cassandra looked angry, Varric looked like he had just discovered a really good story, Leliana like she was trying to dissect her, and Solas was unreadable but for the tiny crinkle in his brow she new to be curiosity. _You were a mystery…_ His words floated back to her and she wrenched herself away from the memories to look at the breach. And her brother was falling down...shit. Stabilizing the breach used all his reserves and, if he was anything like her, wouldn’t wake up until some time after they reached Haven. She rushed over to check on him as some of the soldiers made a stretcher to help carry him back once the shock of battle wore off.

“Well that was impressive.” Varric surmised as they began to walk back. “If you were that good Snowflake, why didn’t you end the fight earlier?”

“Snowflake?” _You used to call me Ladybird, because you said I looked delicate. Like a startled bird about to take flight._

“Your hair’s all white like snow, and though you are quiet you can be seriously deadly.” He explained, though she was betting he made up that second half on the spot to make it sound better. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to answer his question though.

“I’m not supposed to have magic.” She said quietly. It was the truth to some degree. She hadn’t been born with magic, but with the mark and being a spirit meant she was obviously capable of it now.

“There are three mages in the clan already and no other clans had room.” Also true. Gabriel had taken the last spot in their clan for a mage, and during the last clan gathering another young mage had to be sent away because no one had room for her. “So I wouldn’t be sent away, I’ve been hiding it for some time now. Watching Gabriel’s lessons I have learned to control my magic, but I’ve never fought with it before. It was a last resort.”

“This was the first time you have ever attempted to make a spectral sword?” Solas asked, he sounded intrigued. Not surprising she supposed, Vivienne had always said being a knight enchanter took a great deal of training, so for her to do it unconsciously was rather remarkable. She nodded in answer to his question.

“I wished for a better sword. Something with more weight, length, and powerful runes. Then my blade shifted to fit my desire.”

“Remarkable, that is an advanced level of magic and for it to simply come to you…” He trailed off thinking something over.

“That could be potentially dangerous. Are you certain you can always control your magic?” Cassandra pointed out, always the practical one. Varric chuckled.

“Remind me not to make you angry Snowflake. An icy glare from you could probably freeze someone solid.” She paled in horror at the prospect. Did she really have so little control?

“I shall teach her.” Solas proclaimed as if it was a clear fact. She wanted to argue with him that it was not necessary, but knew it to be untrue. Truly she needed to learn how to control her new powers, but it still ached to be around him like this. He was her heart, yet he had no idea who she was. Sternly she shut off that line of thought.

“ _Ma serannas_ , if I am to help at all, that would be very kind of you.”

“It is no trouble. It will be interesting to see what someone as gifted as you may become.”

The rest of the walk back was held in silence. Azreal clung tightly to her unconscious twin’s hand and the others walked a small ways back, giving her ample space to worry. Perhaps the others thought the silence companionable, but Azrael stewed in it. Thinking suddenly of all the things she now had to figure out. Reliving her entire life seemed a much greater a chore than she previously imagined. Maybe she should confide in someone. Share the load and help change things for the better by advising. Gabriel would be the obvious choice as he would be in the most influential seat of power. Yet it was so tempting to simply reveal to the whole inner circle all she knew. How keenly she missed all her friends from her old life however would overshadow anything new she tried to form with these versions. If she wanted even a glimmer of what she had before, they must not know. However Gabe would have no standard to live up to, and could continue to be himself. She also wished to be close to her brother again and sharing her secrets would hopefully help return their old familiarity.

Descending into Haven, Azrael stayed close to her twin until he was led into the small house by the chantry she had once been given. Before she could enter after those carrying him however Solas cleared his throat.

"It is not likely he will wake for some time. If you are not yet tired, I would be willing to begin teaching you now." _Oh fuck off. Let me wallow in my memories like you so often do. All I feel like doing is crying._

"I would love to start training. Where would be best?" She instead said with a small smile which he returned.

"Just outside the walls is a clear area, come." They walked out to the space where the Iron Bull would later set up with the Charges. It felt odd starting back at a time when so many of the people she counted as her closest friends weren’t there. It seemed to her almost as if they had always been there for her.

“We should start at the beginning I believe. Can you cast a fireball?” Solas questioned, a flicker of fire appearing in his own hand. Azrael frowned in thought, bringing up her own hand. She really had no idea how to do magic, but if it was anything like in the fade all she had to do was think it. So she closed her eyes and imagined a spark igniting the air above her hand and expanding to a flame, but when she opened them again nothing was there. Frowning in irritation, she tried again attempting to draw power into her hand. This time her whole hand erupted into raging green flame. She yelped and tried to calm down the fire, but instead it vanished completely. Solas looked at her thoughtfully.

“Your control is lacking, but you have a great well of power. Concentrate and focus your will.” His voice was kind and patient, and so she took a deep breath and tried again.

For several hours they went back and forth. Him trying to get her to envision new ways of control, while she failed spectacularly. Finally they decided to call it a day as Azrael nearly set them both on fire for the tenth time that evening.

“You have a great deal of potential, it is a shame the Dalish fear mages so much as to neglect it.” He continued, more to himself than to her.

“We do not fear mages, we believe them to be incredibly powerful, and have them lead our clans. The Dalish simply believe that a single teacher could not effectively teach more than two students at a time while also being an active Keeper.” Azrael replied cooly. “While not the best way, it usually works.”  The Dalish were wrong about many things, but she would still defend them when their traditions mostly worked.

“Perhaps, but with more mages in a clan, there could be more teachers, and your Keepers could focus on leading alone.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but clans are very slow to change their ways. Probably a remnant from when we had all the time in the world.” He blinked at her in surprise. _Probably because no one has ever agreed to his suggestions so readily before._ She might have argued before just to defend her people, but she had grown up enough to realize when her people needed to change.

“Most would not acquiesce so easily when told they need to change.”

“Change is inevitable, and often for the better. I know my people are not perfect, but at the same time I will stand up for the qualities that I respect in them. You know, more people might listen to your advice if you didn’t say it so condescendingly.” She kept her face neutral and her tone light, but her eyes crinkled in amusement as he frowned at her. Ready for an argument, he opened his mouth to refute her before her words sunk in. She had criticised him in the same manner he had her, and the way it sounded immediately riled tensions.

“I see your point, but I still have doubts over the methods of your people.”

“We are all one people Solas. Though it may not seem that way sometimes, an elf is still an elf regardless of how they live.”

“That makes us one race, but the elvhen have not been one people for some time.”

“Then what does make a group a single people to you?”

“I conceive it to be a shared goal for the future stemming from a shared history. Having lost so much history and being so divided in interest, the elves are fractured.”

“By your definition the elves have never been a unified people. I highly doubt every elf in Arlathan wanted the same thing from the future. In fact, the elvhen now are closer to be a singular people than ever before. Most these days will all agree that we have been demeaned for far too long and need more respect. While we have lost most of what we knew about Arlathan, history has never stopped being made. The mistake is often assumed that elvhen history ended when our empire did, but so long as elves still live we are making history, and what we do know has greatly influenced how we live. From the Dales, to the Exalted March, and our years of being nomads, the elves are much different from what we were.” She hadn’t meant to say so much, but it had all just sort of stumbled out. Everything she had wanted to tell Solas about the elvhen that she had realized after he left. He stared at her for a while with a look she had never encountered before on his face.

“You have an interesting perspective, but I believe I should retire for now. We shall train more tomorrow, _on nydha_.” As he walked away she parroted his good night. The sun was just beginning to set and she decided to check in on her brother. Peering into the small cabin she realized he was still asleep. It would do little to sit by his side, and she wasn’t tired enough to sleep herself. The tavern was an option, but Azrael wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with any more ghosts of her past today. Instead she walked over to the outer wall of Haven and climbed up to perch at the top and look out over the lake and mountains. Humming quietly at first, Azrael soon found herself singing outright as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

 

Those hardest to love need it most

I watched our bodies turn to ghosts

Such good friends, it has to end it always does

That's the way life is

Do we take that risk?

 

And so it all boils down to this

We've got our aim but we might miss

We are too fragile just to guess

And I've been in this place before

Fine as we are but we want more

That's human nature at its best

 

What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools?

And all we have we lose?

I don't want you to go but I want you so

So tell me what we choose

 

Friends, I watched us as we changed

The feelings in my headspace rearranged

I want you more than I've wanted anyone

Isn't that dangerous?

 

The anticipation before the kiss

Mirrored in my shaking lips

Oh god I feel so unprepared

The two of us so out of place

My feelings written on my face

Got what I want but now I'm scared

 

What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools?

And all we have we lose?

I don't want you to go but I want you so

So tell me what

Tell me what we choose

What we choose

What we choose

 

What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools?

And all we have we lose?

I don't want you to go but I want you so

So tell me what

Tell me what

Tell me what we choose

 

“You’ve got some good pipes Snowflake. That something you wrote, or something you heard?” She swung around to the other side of the wall to peer down on Varric.

“I wrote it. Think it’s any good?”

“I'm no judge of music, but it sounded good to me. Though I am curious about the story behind it."

"Hmmm, it's a grand tale of romance, heartache, adventure, time travel, and of course the end of the world. It’s not ready for the public yet, but I'm sure I have other stories you could borrow for your books."

"Oh, you've read something of mine have you?"

"I'm pretty sure I've read most of them actually. Hard in Hightown is very good, and while I like the Tale of the Champion, I have doubts over the accuracy."

"Harsh, but it's always good to hear from the fans. Care to come down and discuss this some more?"

"Maybe next time Varric, I'm going to turn in for the night." She lept down from the wall easily.

"’Night then, Snowflake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Elvish~  
> ma serannas: my thanks  
> on nydha: Good night
> 
> The song is Fools by Lauren Aquilina.


	4. Chapter 4

There wasn’t another bed set up in Gabriel’s cabin, so Azrael settled for curling up on the floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but she had slept on worse. She fell asleep fast, the fade welcoming her back readily. She considered haunting her memories of Skyhold but felt it an inappropriate place to dwell now that she was starting again. Maybe she would dream of it again when it was rediscovered, but for now her mind turned to other things.

Perhaps in reflection of her new course, she found herself in the Crossroads. Started from her own memory of the place, she let spirits fill in what they knew, building up some places while leaving others still in ruin. She stood at the edge of one of the many floating chunks of land and let her form shift to that of a spirit. Not having her mind constantly focused on her appearance gave her more room to think as she drifted amongst the remnants of the ancient library.

Flipping idly through books, suddenly she sensed another presence and was shocked to find Solas. While she hadn’t been hiding in the fade, she certainly hadn’t expected him to focus in on one spirit. Deciding it would be easier to just leave, Azrael began to focus on being somewhere else. Perhaps sensing her intentions, Solas interrupted her concentration.

“Please, do not go. I did not mean to interrupt your reading, but I have never seen a spirit such as yourself. May I ask what you are and if this place is from your memory?” He looked at her expectantly as she thought through how to sound like a spirit.

“I… am not what I was, but being like this is still me. I am many things and once carried many names, but regardless, yes, this place started from my memory. But it is mixed with others as well as clinging to the present. The Crossroads still hold some sway here, even its memory is harder to shape.”

“Fascinating. You must surely be powerful to command so many spirits. Perhaps you are a spirit of authority?”

“I did not order them; I asked. Though authority I once had in plenty, it did not make me. Compassion once called me Love, for how tightly I cling to Pride. Perhaps that is what I have become.”

“I am unsure I understand you. You are clearly no pride demon, but I have never in all my wanderings encountered a spirit of love such as you. Nor a spirit who harbored any relations with another.”

“Pride was a man. He is lost to me now. Foolish lover. Too real for him, a distraction changing everything, and so I am Loss. It was not supposed to happen this way.” Her words dredged up old emotions. The hurt and anguish pulling at her like old scars, suddenly she felt  unstable, the light of her spirit form fracturing at her tempestuous emotions. Looking down, she saw the mark was crackling dangerously. She took several slow breaths to try to focus herself and be calm. Using the force of her will to stay as she was.

“My apologies, I did not mean to unsettle you so.”

“You never do. Good intentions with terrible consequences. Think clearly before you act, Dread Wolf, there are many mistakes yet to be made that can be remedied.” As his eyes widened in shock Azrael desperately thought _wake up, wake up, wake up_.

She came to with a jolt. She had said too much. It was much too easy just to say everything that came to her mind while in the fade. She rested her head in her hands. What if she had messed everything up already? All she wanted was a happy ending; was that too much to ask?

“Bad dream Az?” She startled and looked up to face her brother. Gabriel sat up in the bed looking worried.

“I suppose you could say that. The weird day we had could account for that.” She said trying to sound normal.

“Yeah, and I can’t help but think this is only going to get weirder.” He held up his left hand and watched the anchor glow, before turning back to her. “What was that about today anyway? When did you get magic? Not that it isn’t awesome, but you never told me about it. Also your eyes are green now. They almost look like the breach.” His voice was teasing, but Azrael could hear the underlying worry, and even a level of suspicion.

“Well I...um...I just...I..” The stress of the day seemed to weigh down on her, closing off the air in her throat. She tried to force some words out, yet they just wouldn’t come and she just felt so weak and lost. All she could see was her friends dying before her again, the feeling of powerlessness mixed with fear dragging her down. She had failed them last time, how could she ever do better this time? Tears started down her face.

“Shit, shit, shit shit, shit.” Gabriel lept off the bed and folded her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry Az, it’s alright.”

“But it’s not alright!” She gasped out, burying her face in his shoulder.

So through heaving sobs she told Gabriel nearly everything that had happened. He rubbed gentle circles on her back and held her tightly, listening attentively. When she finally ran out of words, they sat together in silence for a time.

“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot Az. But you know what? It’s going to be better this time. This go around I’m here to help you out. And as my first act as an overprotective big brother, I’m going to set the fucking Dread Wolf on fire.” Gabriel beamed at Azrael, his tone facetious, but his eyes burned with pure righteous anger. She couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“I’ve missed you so much Gabe.”

 

They spent the rest of the night into early morning talking. Not just about the possible future and their plans, but about what her new spirit powers could do, and what sort of fun things she had done with her old friends. He was very eager for more information about what she was now. The more she talked the lighter Azrael felt. Her task seemed less daunting with her brother by her side. She hadn’t told him everything, but she had relayed the base plot, so he knew what to expect.They had degenerated into tales of Wicked Grace failures and Sera’s pranks when the sun crept over the horizon and someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Gabriel called. A little elvhen lass peeked into the cottage nervously.

“I don’t mean to disturb, ser, but Lady Cassandra wishes to see you in the chantry. At once she said.” Before either of them could ask her anything more, the girl dashed away leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Creators preserve me, is everyone going to be like that?” Gabriel sighed in exasperation as they got up from the floor and stretched.

“Oh of course. The almighty Herald of Andraste is to be revered.” Azrael mocked her brother, bowing deeply. “My liege.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

“I don’t even believe in their Maker, or Andraste. After what you told me I’m having a crisis of faith in our gods.The Evanuris were dicks; what do I swear by now?”

“Mythal is good if you want to swear by someone. Even though she isn’t a god, she’s powerful and mostly just. Good as any to follow. To swear at someone however, definitely use Fen’Harel. Especially if he’s near by.” They walked outside and strolled through Haven up to the Chantry. Eyes fell upon as they moved, but neither of the elves chose to acknowledge them.

“Is that what you did after you learned the truth?” He asked.

“Sort of. I started out with that, but never really supported Mythal that way. I started swearing by my heart instead. I cursed him as Fen’Harel, but swore by him as ma vhenan. Bad case of dissociation I suppose.” She shrugged lightly. They made their way into the chantry and were greeted by the sound of angry voices behind the door at the far end of the chapel.

“Ah yes, time to be yelled at by religious people who are angry because other people think you are more religious than them. My favorite part of the day.” Azrael said sarcastically. Gabriel gave a huff of laughter as he pushed open the door.

Walking into the room, both Lavellans stayed silent as Cassandra and Leliana tore apart the Chancellor's arguments.

Gabriel however spoke up when Cassandra said he was here by providence, trying to deny her assumptions. “I’m not here by the will of any god. Well, maybe Fen’Harel, but least ways not your Maker. This was a coincidence.”

“No matter what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.” Cassandra reaffirmed, before she turned to get the writ for the inquisition. Slamming the book down on the table she laid down the law, and Roderick was forced to leave in a huff. Gabriel gave a quiet “Hooray” at his departure which earned him an odd look from both hands of the Divine, but Leliana continued regardless, proclaiming their need for action against the Breach. Then all heads turned to Gabriel, wondering whether he would be their Herald.

“Mythal save me, but I can’t just walk away from this. I will do everything in my power to help you close the breach.” He proclaimed, offering his hand to Cassandra to shake. She took the proffered hand and shook it firmly, lips turned up in a smile.

“For what it’s worth, I stand by my brother in this, and shall help you in any way I can.” Azrael offered.

“We will need all the help we can get in the days to come so yours is more than welcome. I have some people prepared to aid in leading this order and can send for help from others in the days to come. But many will see this as an act of war against the chantry. We should inquire with the mages and the Templars to see if either will aid us as well.” Leliana swung into full planning mode then, writing down a list of people to send missives to.

“For now we shall handle things. Go and rest, it may be your last chance before this is all over.” Cassandra offered. Gabriel nodded in understanding before smiling broadly and taking Azrael’s hand.

“C’mon Az, let’s go exploring!” She rolled her eyes at his childlike enthusiasm, but followed along.

 

They wandered around Haven for a time introducing themselves as they went. However almost every time they stopped to chat, someone either disregarded them as knife-ears, demanded Gabriel fix their problems, or proclaimed him the Herald of Andraste. He tried to persuade them otherwise each time that he did not like to be associated with the woman whose religion destroyed the elvish people, but no one seemed to listen. The further they went the more Azrael saw his smile faltering.

“C’mon, let’s go get the notes from the old apothecary cottage in the woods.” She suggested. _It’s better than staying around all these shemlens_. He nodded and they walked out of the thick walls surrounding the town. Once they were far enough to not be heard Gabriel spoke up.

“I don’t understand them. No one is listening to what I want. I thought…. I don’t know, that agreeing to help would make people be more respectful.”

“They are respectful, but only to what they want you to be. I’m sorry to say it won’t get much better. Even being Inquisitor people never really listened to what I said about being Dalish. My friends never really respected my heritage, my supporters pretty much saw me as human. Some of my inner circle thought it would be better for a human to take hundreds of years of elvhen history, rather than an actual elf. Even those who thought I should take it, only thought so because they didn’t trust Morrigan. They even looked to her as the expert on everything elvhen, rather than me. I tried everything to aid the plight of the elves, and then I learn that not only was the last Inquisitor and elvish mage, but he had tried to help as well. But the chantry decided that wasn’t good enough, and so erased him. We’re not good enough for humans, nor are we accepted by the ancient elvhen. To be a Dalish elf is to be an outcast.” Gabriel mulled over her words before sighing.

“Perhaps our legacy is to be forgotten, but I’m not going to stop trying. Everytime someone calls me Herald, I’m going to correct them until it finally sticks.”

“You have always been stronger than me Gabe.”

“I’m older, I have to be.” Azrael snorted inelegantly.

“5 minutes, that’s it. You always bring this up, but it was only 5 minutes.” It was their oldest argument, but it didn’t last long before they both broke down in laughter over the teasing.


	5. Chapter 5

The next week past in relative peace compared to what Azrael knew it would become. She and Gabriel continued to help out around Haven as more refugees poured in. There was also plenty of new soldiers enlisting to fight against the breach and the barracks grew exponentially. Every day Azrael also made time to train not only her magic with Solas, but also her sword fighting. She built up a new regime of exercise to try and work her body back into the shape it had been before she started over. Then in the evenings the twins retired to the tavern to talk with Varric, drink, and in Azrael’s case, sing. While Gabriel could certainly sing well, he wasn’t much for singing to large crowds. A second bed had been set up in Gabriel’s cabin after the first night, and Azrael was very appreciative for it. She avoided Solas in the Fade as much as possible however. Sometimes she would see him in the distance, and her heart ached to go to him like she never could have before. For she knew he would not draw further away, but she also knew he would probably be able to tell she was more than she seemed if they met in the Fade. Finally, the budding Inquisition received a missive from the Hinterlands. 

After an introduction to the mission in the war room, Gabriel wandered through the village to collect his traveling party. Azrael practically thrummed with anticipation. She loved Haven, and it was amazing to see it whole again, but she also was not used to sitting around doing close to nothing for a solid week. She was used to the years of nonstop travel and planning that came after they had arrived at Skyhold, and later the constant anxiety of war. Gabriel had gathered Cassandra, Varric, Solas, and herself swiftly and they made their way out of Haven. Azrael made a beeline for the stables.

“We don’t have any mounts,  _ dahn’direlan _ .” Gabriel called after her, stopping her in her tracks.  _ Right, shit. We haven’t got Dennet yet. This is going to be a long trip… _

 

At the end of the week they finally reached the edge of the Hinterlands, and Azrael was quietly grumbling about how much she missed Revas.

“Who’s Revas, Snowflake?” Varric asked, having walked closest to her, he had caught the tail end of her whining.

“Hmmm? Oh, my hart.”

“Your heart? The guy you wrote that song about?”

“No, no, hart, H-A-R-T, they’re like very large large deer. Except amazingly smart, and incredibly loyal. He’s the best mount I’ve ever had.”

“Interesting name for a mount, freedom. Was he left behind with your clan?” Solas chimed in. Since their first conversation, he had shown a great deal more interest in her than she remembered him having last time. Where he was certainly listening to what she said before, now he actively asked questions and participated in conversations.

“No… He, um… I lost him a while ago.” Revas had been killed in a skirmish at the camp of some of Solas’s agents. While she doubted Solas had ordered the death of her most loyal companion, it was a certain kind of grim symbolism that he had killed her Freedom.

“Even the most loyal mount can be spooked into fleeing. I lost my first steed that way. He ran off into the woods and was never found.” Cassandra was trying for compassionate, but had clearly misread what Azrael had said.

“A hart would never simply wander off. They are deeply proud beasts, so it is rare for a hart to accept a rider. However, once they do, it will protect them and stay by their side for as long as they can. What happened, may I ask?” Solas turned from Cassandra to face her.

“I was trying to save my clan from a pack of wolves that had been attacking. He was felled trying to save me.”

“Odd, wolves rarely attack without provocation. What did your clan do to antagonize them?” Azrael pursed her lips, eyes narrowing in anger.

“Absolutely nothing.” Her reply has curt and she quickened her pace, striding away from the others. Behind her Gabriel tried to break the tension and excuse her behavior, but Azrael was fuming.  _ It’s always the fault of the Dalish to him. We’re so terrible this, we’ve ruined everything. We’re just trying to the best we can with the little we have, while the rest of the world tears us down. It’s his fault Revas died, and for him to blame it on the only family I’ve ever had…! Revas was the last thing I had that connected me to my heritage once my clan died…  _ She felt very tired all of a sudden. The fading anger taking the wind from her sails, all that remained was her sadness. Wiping furiously at the tears that threatened to fall, Azrael tried to turn her thoughts toward something lighter.  _ I hope I’ll be less of a mess by the time Cole shows up. That would not end well.  _

The camp was quiet that evening, the rest of the party dancing around her. Solas seemed to want to say something to her, but couldn’t quite bring himself to. She felt bad for disrupting the mood of the group, but she would stick to her convictions on this matter, and hopefully things would be less tense in the morning.

She drifted again as a spirit that night, stalking around Gabriel’s dreams. He dreamt of the happy moments of their past, and it was calming. She could feel it when Solas found her again, but did not flee, interested in seeing what he would do.

“You are a difficult one to find.” She did not turn to address him, but instead watched as she taught Gabriel to make flower crowns.

“There are many places to hide here if one does not wish to be found.”

“Yet here you are. Is it too presumptuous to think you wished to be found?”

“I simply got tired of running. Why did you chase?”

“Because you are a mystery.”

“Knawing until you get the marrow, but what if you break your teeth along the way?”

“Was that a threat? I did not think you were a demon.”

“We have spoken but once, how would you know?”

“You have yet to try and tempt me, or deceive me.”

“Perhaps that I am?” She turned to face him then, a smirk playing at the edge of her mouth.

“If you were a demon you would be troubling the Herald, rather than watching his dreams.”

“Gabriel.” She blurted out.

“Pardon?”

“His name. He doesn’t like Herald. Neither did I.” Embarrassed at her own outburst she tried to recover but rather made it worse. The thought trailed off quietly.

“You were called ‘Herald’?”

“A life passed and gone, but the faces stay the same. Wish it was a dream.” She turned away from him again. He seemed to think for a moment before asking sincerely: 

“May I ask what your life was like?” It was her turn to pause as she considered how much to tell him.

“Born in chains. Running to freedom. A family. Then later, a mission. Prophet they called the scared and grieving girl. Lead them or fall. New friends and new love, but he had other plans. Distraction. But to whom? Struggle and faith, yet supported. But winter came, and the flowers withered leaving the tree alone. Nothing left. Empty chairs at empty tables. So I jumped. Game over.” They stared at each other in silence for a time. Solas’s face grim as he tried to decipher and mull over what she had said.

“You took your own life.” It wasn’t a question, but she could hear the bewilderment in his voice, as well as the sorrow.

“Alone and afraid, nothing left but a crumbling fortress.”

“Could you not have simply made new friends?” She looked down at her hands sadly.

“Possibly. But the world I knew was gone, I do not have the power to return things to the way they were.” He stiffened, obviously hearing something in her words she hadn’t intended. 

“The veil will come down and the world will be as it was. I plan to see to it.” There it was. He thought her friends died when the veil came into being; that she is an ancient elf. Everything always has to be his fault doesn’t it?

“The past is not the place we lived in, but the memories. Without the veil, there would be only chaos. The things that made the past great can not be found again. Our memories are cloudy and make the past better than what it was. Can you bring back my friends? No. You fear the present because it is not what you knew, but do you truly want what was, or what you remember it to be?” She looked up into his eyes. Waring emotions flashed across his face as she watched. Anger, sadness, regret, and guilt, before he stilled himself on impassive. His voice was terse, and he sounded slightly agitated as he said his farewell.

“Thank you for talking to me, but I must go. Good night.” And with that he disappears.  _ Hit a nerve did I? Hopefully this will make him think more over his plans.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Elvish~  
> dahn’direlan~ bee-puncher
> 
> Happy holidays guys :D Thanks so much to everyone who has left a kudos or a bookmark! But a special thanks to those who commented, it feels so good to know that people are enjoying my story.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning the camp seemed lighter than the night before, Varric and Gabriel both doing their part to break the tension that carried over from the previous day with jokes. Azrael loosened up and joined their joke telling as they continued on their way to the Crossroads Village. Cassandra was her usual stern self, but Azrael could see her mouth turn to a small smile when one of them told an especially funny story. Solas on the other hand was completely off in his own world. While she had wanted him to think through some things, it wasn’t good for him to be entirely absent from the conversation.

“So this one time I had this super weird dream.” She started off.

“As much as I like you Snowflake, I don’t really want to hear about those kinds of dreams.” Varric smirked at her evilly. She flicked his shoulder.

“Not like that you pervert. So it started kind of scary, as I was being chased through the woods by this giant wolf. Typical Dalish against the Dread Wolf kind of dream, you know. When he caught up he kinda ripped off my arm, but it didn’t hurt. Then he turned back into an elf and boasted about how great he was. So I get up and take my arm back, and since it’s the only weapon I had at the time, I use it to beat him up. Just imagine me running after a terribly intimidating looking elf, hitting him with my severed arm.”

They stared at her for a second, before Gabriel’s eyes darted over to Solas and he burst into hysterical laughter. Varric was chuckling, while Cassandra looked rather horrified, and Solas was finally paying attention.

“You’re weirder than I thought, huh, Snowflake.” Varric commented, she just shrugged.

“You had your arm ripped off by your people’s greatest enemy, and instead of running away, you attacked him… with your own dead arm?” Solas sounded completely baffled and unsure, facing Azrael with a look of confused shock. 

“Eh, Fen’Harel wasn’t so bad. I was more peeved about my arm than afraid. Plus, it’s not like he’s around anymore.” She smiled up at him with fake sincerity, and swore she saw a brief flash of guilt in his eyes.

 

After some time on the road, Azrael looked up to see a familiar green light filtering through the trees. The group shared a look and decided to investigate. If they could close them, it wouldn’t do to just leave rifts as they were. Suddenly Gabriel’s mark sparked as they drew near, causing him to let out a muffled curse at the pain.  Azrael winced in sympathy, and partially because her own mark had flared up as well. She took him by the arm in a motion that she hoped was encouraging, and made way to the rift, which was already starting to spit out a few shades.

“What? There are  _ more _ ?” Gabriel cried as large green bubbles began frothing underfoot when he struck the last shade down with a lightning bolt. Then the bubbles exploded into demons.

Azrael was so focused on taking down several shades that had decided to surround her, that she didn't notice the plight of the others until her brother shouted. Her head shot up at the noise, around the opaque haze of malevolent spirit she could see a massive rage demon spewing fire at her friends. Her moment of distraction cost her as a shade got past her defenses and a claw raked across her scalp. Focusing back on her own fight she quickly spun, slicing through all four at once, but only one melted into goo. Caught between her three adversaries, as she swung her sword at one, another moved in to strike.

She managed to finish off another with a few fast swings and jumped away so she could assess where the other two had gone. She had just managed to dodge another swipe when she saw the last green spirit was summoning a ball of energy. Suddenly it burst into flame. Solas stood further away, his fingertips lightly smoking. After quickly nodding her thanks, she managed a quick glance at the rage demon.

Cassandra was hacking away bits of burning ectoplasm from the rage demon’s back while Varric was firing arrow after arrow. Azrael was unable to catch a sight of Gabriel until she saw him stumbling back after another spout of fire, clutching his burning arm.

His other hand was shaking violently as he tried to put out the unnatural flame with a coat of ice, but he could barely manage a thin dusting of frost. “Shit, fuck, fire,  _ augh _ !  _ Fenedhis! _ ” he screamed.

_ No!! _ Azrael thought desperately as she sprinted toward him. Her vision narrowed on the demon as her emotions screamed out that she couldn't bear to lose him again. As she approached, the demon turned towards her, but, instead of slowing her pace, Azrael raised her arm and concentrated her hate for the demon. Ice shot from her hand, freezing the rage demon solid before it shattered. She leapt deftly over the pile of shards to get to her brother, quickly removing her coat and hastily wrapping it around his arm, smothering the fire that was eating away at his sleeve.  _ And probably a good part of his forearm, too _ , she thought before he jerked away from her and flung away the coat in order to expose the anchor.

He raised his hand, hissing as the green erupted from charred flesh. The instant the rift closed, Gabriel sank to ground, tearing away the smoking sleeve with his good hand in order to heal the burned arm with trembling fingers. The soft glow quickly sputtered out, however, and he tried shaking his hand as if to channel more magic into it, but he couldn’t maintain the healing magic long enough to do much good. He dug his teeth into his lower lip as if to help himself concentrate, and a line of blood trickled down his chin.

Then, suddenly, Solas was at his side, taking his arm and bathing it in soft green light. Gabriel visibly relaxed at the relief, taking deep breaths in order to refill his magic pool and calm down. Az narrowed her eyes when the mark sparked a little in response to Fen’Harel’s magic, but her brother didn’t even flinch. Soon, he brought his own hand up to his broken lip and closed it with a flick of his wrist, then brought it down to assist Solas in repairing the burns. Eventually, the only evidence that the burn had existed was a light pattern along the skin. 

Gabriel stood, quickly flexing his fingers and grinning as if nothing had happened. “Ugh, demons, am I right? Let’s go, there’s a Chantry Mother waiting for us!” 

“I’m sure she can wait a minute or two longer Gabe. We can take a short break.” Azrael replied. The rest of their party didn't seem nearly as ready to begin walking again immediately, and her gaze flicked meaningfully over to where Solas had begun to heal a wound on Cassandra’s leg. Gabriel’s smile faltered slightly. She knew he prefered to ignore near tragedies and move on quickly, but she had learned the hard way to make sure the party was in peak form before venturing again into the unknown.

“Oh, of course. My bad Az, I forget sometimes you silly warriors and rogues need a breather every so often. Let me heal that for you.” 

He reached out and gently closed the gash on her forehead, ruffling her hair as he pulled away. She scowled up at him, pieces of hair now pulled out of her careful braid.

“Let's not forget it was my not being just a warrior that saved your ass.” She retorted, trying to find a way to fix her hair without redoing the whole braid.

“Pffft. You nearly froze me too. That was purely accidental.”

“I'm getting better though!” She tried to defend her skills, but she still had yet to retain complete control over her seemingly situational magic.

“Keep telling yourself that, and maybe someday It’ll come true  _ da’mi _ .” He smirked, then turned tail as her face turned red in embarrassment. 

“Don't you  _ da’mi  _ me  _ isa’ma’lin.  _ Come back here and die like a man!” She shouted, chasing after him with a raised fist.

 

The rest of their travels around the Hinterlands passed in a fashion of poor humor and growing friendship. There were struggles with rifts and the Mage-Templar conflict, but they made it to the Crossroads Village without too much difficulty. Azrael had no more troubles with accidental magic, and the worst injury the team received since the rift was a lucky swipe of a dagger that nicked Varric’s shoulder. 

After clearing out the waves of angry warmongers, Gabe stretched and whined, “When is my reward of riches coming for all this hard work? I’m ready to swim in a sea of caramels!”

Azrael poked him in the stomach, making him squeak and drop his staff. “We’d have to fish you out before you drown in it. You swim like a rock.”

“Well, he’d best take lessons soon,” Varric interrupted Gabe’s indignant reply. “You’re still in deep water; you have to speak to the Mother.”

A grimace simultaneously passed over the twin’s faces. 

“I’ll come with you,” Azrael offered to her brother. To her confusion, he shook his head after a moment’s consideration.

“No, I’ll do this alone.” He gave a grin. “I ought to spare you the horrors of an Orlesian Chantry Mother.” Cassandra sniffed in disapproval at that remark. Leaving his sister to shift nervously on her feet, Gabriel headed towards the biggest hat he could find, assuming that it was the Mother. It was all too lucky that he was correct. 

 

Gabriel took his time wandering about the village alone after speaking to the Mother, talking to some of the villagers. As he moved about, accepting requests from a few and smiling kindly to those wishing to see the “Herald,” Azrael’s eyes followed him from the healer’s station where she was helping out. At one point, a villager broke down in tears and swooned into Gabe’s arms. He toppled over with the sudden weight, and the woman landed heavily on top of him. Azrael thought that Varric would die of laughter.

“So kind of the Herald of Andraste to break the fall of an innocent lady!” He chortled. Try as she might, Azrael could only manage a small smile. At any other time, she would be laughing just as hard as the dwarf, but her twin’s recent denial of her company still stung.

“Hey, Snowflake. What’s on your mind?” Varric said softly. Azrael turned in surprise, but then realized  _ of course _ he would notice.

She sighed and looked down at the roll of bandages that she was fiddling with. “I don’t know…” She murmured. “We’ve always been together, you know? I mean, sure, we did some things separately like with his magic training, but we’d always be back together at the end of the day. He’s never willingly rejected my company before. It’s… just a bit sudden.”  _ I haven’t seen his face for years, and he won’t let me near him. _

Varric nodded in sympathy. “Sounds tough. I’m sure he has a good reason for it all. See, he’s coming back right now!”

He was right. Gabe was jogging over with his characteristic grin on his face. “Hey guys!” he shouted. “Who wants to go hunting?” When no one moved, he snapped his fingers in some silly dance of impatience and said, “By ‘who wants to go hunting’, I mean, ‘we’re going hunting,’ so get your butts up off the ground and get your sneaking shoes on!” 

Refraining from pointing out that neither of them wore shoes, Azrael smiled and stood as her brother tried to hoist Varric up, but he apparently underestimated the density of the dwarf; he would do better trying to move a boulder. “Vaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiic!” he whined, flopping bonelessly on top of the dwarf. “Take pity on a poor mage. We’re all skin and bones.” Varric only chuckled at the lanky elf’s attempts to move him, and pushed him onto the ground.

“I have a mage friend who’d disprove that theory in a second.” He said rising from the ground.

“A burly mage? Damn.” Gabriel rolled to his feet, smirking.

“As much as I’m sure you two would get along, he’s already taken, kid; don’t get your hopes up.” Varric replied.

Gabe sighed dramatically. “The good ones always have someone else.”

Gabriel scurried away to fetch Solas and Cassandra. His expression made Azrael giggle. A friendly punch on the arm from Varric made her smile even more. As she watched her four friends gather about and bicker on where to go, her smile faded as her amusement was replaced with determination. She was going to keep them happy. Everything was going to go  _ right _ this time, even if it killed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Elvish~  
> Fenedhis~ wolf dick  
> da’mi~ "little blade. An endearment used, usually for hunters or warriors, but can be used for anyone. Typically used to describe someone who is stubborn, but effective. Someone who goes to get what they want, and someone who does something regardless of consequence. As with da’assan, it is usually used by someone more experience/older towards someone less experienced/younger." -Taken from FenxShiral's Project Elvhen  
> isa’ma’lin~ brother


	7. Chapter 7

They only stopped at Haven for half a day in order to restock supplies before making way to Val Royeaux. During the week-long travel, Azrael noticed that Gabriel seemed to be avoiding her. He kept insisting that she walk ahead while he checked out some herbs on the side of the road or quietly moving around in the entourage and checking up on everyone. Finally she confronted him about it, desperate to regain the constant presence that she did not want to lose a second time.

“Why don’t I come with you this time? More eyes to find the herbs.”

“No, Az, it’s fine. Go chat with Varric; it’s more fun than filling requisitions.”

“I want to help you,  _ isa’ma’lin _ .”

“Then help by keeping Varric company. I think Cassandra is getting close to ripping out all of his chest hair.”

Azrael tried again, “Gabe, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want me around?”

“I just have a lot to do now.”

_ This is nothing compared to what you have coming, _ she thought sadly. Her thoughts must have been reflected on her face, because Gabriel furrowed his brow and looked away guiltily.

“Fine,” he relented. “But don’t blame me if Varric loses his chest-carpet.”

“Oh, come one. It’s not that hairy.”

“Az, do you have eyes? I think that bear attacked us back there because she thought he had a cub tucked into his shirt.”

She laughed and happily joined him in picking plants for the day. But even him accepting her company that time wasn’t enough to calm her worries. It almost seemed to her as if he was hiding something. A quiet worry stewed in her all the way to Val Royeaux. 

The city was just as unwelcoming as Azrael remembered. The same woman screamed and ran as she saw them approaching, the same mutterings of  _ knife-ear _ hidden behind gloves in an ironic attempt at civility. The grin that Gabriel sported after reading the same amusing graffiti vanished after a gob of saliva hit him in the cheek. The spit was new. Azrael quickly took his hand and lead him away as Cassandra rebuked the offender with a prolonged glare.

The crowd before the podium ignored them as they moved forward; they were all focused on the Chantry Sister who was preaching her heart out about the dangers of the Inquisition and their Herald.

“Should I be flattered that they’re putting in this much effort to hate me?” Gabriel murmured into his sister’s ear. 

“You’re a mage, an elf, and the leader of an organization that threatens their power. That warrants its own special brand of derision.”

“Ah… Nothing brings a Chantry together quite like facing anathema.”

Their side conversation was interrupted as the Mother addressed Gabriel directly.

“Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a false prophet! The Maker would send no elf in our time of need!” She shrilled, and the crowd rallied to her claims.

“Look, I don’t claim to be a herald, I came here to seek help in ending a real danger out there. Please, let us speak peacefully about joining our forces to stop the Breach.” Gabriel smiled up at the Mother, but his eyes held no humor.

“It’s true!” Cassandra proclaimed, stepping forward. “The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”

“It is already too late!” The Mother snapped back, gesturing to the approaching Templars. “The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this ‘Inquisition,’ and the people will be safe once more!” 

Gabriel tensed as the armored men climbed onto the podium. However as they walked past the Mother, as if to stand at her side, one of pulled back a fist and struck the her in the back of the head. The crowd gave out startled yells as she fell, some even turning to flee. Gabe gave out a surprised snigger, causing the angry eyes of the Lord Seeker to turn on him. 

He shrugged, uncomfortable under the Templar’s hard gaze. “What? She was being rude, you did what I was hoping someone would do.”

“As I would ever do anything for  _ your _ pleasure.” He replied with a huff, moving to walk down from the podium.

“Lord Seeker Lucius, it’s imperative that we speak with-” Cassandra began before he waved her off.

“You will not address me.” The Lord Seeker barely even glanced in her direction.

“ _ Edhis _ .” Gabriel muttered under his breath.

“Lord Seeker?” Cassandra tried again, utterly confused.

“Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet, you should be ashamed.” He turned to speak to the dwindling crowd. “You should all be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages! You are the ones who failed! You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear! If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine.”

“Kinda a douche,” Azrael whispered to Gabriel. “But he’s an envy demon so what can you do?” He glanced down at her, and eyebrow arched in question. She shrugged, and he turned back to the Lord Seeker.

“Did you just come here to prove that you are a massive ass, or is there something I’m missing?” Gabriel deadpanned.

“Do not mock me, knife-ear. We came to see what would frighten old women so, and to laugh.”

“So I’m missing nothing.” Gabe replied glibly.

The Lord Seeker spat at his feet. “ _I_ will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the void. We deserve recognition, independence! You have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition… less than nothing.”

“Honestly, you’ve not given us a chance to show much of anything.” Gabriel replied crossing his arms across his chest. 

Lucius turned away from him, speaking to his men. “Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We March!” He barked, and promptly stomped away.

“Charming fellow,” Varric remarked sarcastically.

“Has he gone mad?” Cassandra inquired of no one in particular.

“Judging by your confusion, I’m going to assume he wasn’t always like that.” Gabriel said.

“He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert’s death. He was always a decent man, never given to ambition and grandstanding. This is very bizarre.” She replied, Azrael could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to puzzle things out.

Azrael decided to push a little.She had sided with the mages and only knew a little about what Cole had said was wrong with the Templars. If her foreknowledge was to help, they should try to travel a similar path. “Seems like an alliance with the Templars would be asking for trouble.” Gabriel turned a quizzical look to the retreating backs of the Templars.

“Are you suggesting that we don’t even try?” He asked. “It can’t hurt. We could help the poor crazy man.”

“I imagine that he has little else to say to us.” she pressed. 

Cassandra hissed in irritation. “There is obviously something wrong with him. We would be remiss to simply ignore the problem.” She glanced pointedly at Azrael, making her wince in the face of her disapproval.

“I didn’t say we should ignore it, just that it would probably be faster to see about the mages first. Our priority should be to close the Breach as fast as possible.” Azrael tried to reason.  _ I mean, there won’t be a time to talk to the Templars after the breach is closed but still... _

With a look at both the Seeker and his sister, Gabriel moved to catch up to the Lord Seeker, apparently to fulfill Cassandra’s wishes. But before he went ten feet, an arrow whizzed past his face and planted its head into the ground by his foot. “AAUGH! THERE’S A… note attached to it?” As he paused in his conflict between unraveling the message and chasing down the Templars, a messenger ran up to him and shoved a letter in his face.

“Herald of Andraste?”

“Y-yes?” Gabe stuttered in surprise.

“A message for you from First Enchanter Vivienne.”

“Wh-who–” 

“It’s an invitation to a fête.”

“A wha–”

“We do hope that you can attend.”

“I–”

“Good day, messer Herald.” The messenger vanished.

Gabriel stood frozen with his mouth hanging open in the middle of his question, the letter in one hand, the arrow in another. The Templars were gone. 

Azrael waved a hand in front of his face. “Gabe? Are you still with us?” He batted her hand away.

“So… half the continent wants me dead, and the other half wants to be my best friend. I’ve always been a slight attention hog, but this is taking it a step too far.”

Azrael snorted inelegantly. “‘Slight’ is a vast oversimplification.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who tried to fight a bear by herself to get the Keeper’s approval.” Gabriel retorted, smirking. Azrael felt her ears burn as she blushed in embarrassment. They had both done a lot to try and fit in with the Dalish, but the bear stunt was definitely the worst of both their ideas. Varric practically broke out a quill and paper pad, preparing to record just what happened with the bear, but stopped as an elvhen woman dressed in mage robes walked over.

“If I might have a moment of your time?” She inquired.

Gabriel shrugged and smiled politely. “I mean why not, I gave time to everyone else and they didn’t even ask for it.” 

“Grand Enchanter Fiona?” Cassandra asked in surprise. 

Solas stepped forward at this, interest clear in his face. “Leader of the mage rebellion, is it not dangerous for you to be here?”

“I heard of this gathering, and wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes.” She replied evenly, voice colored by her light Orlesian accent. “If it is help with the Breach you seek, perhaps you should look among your fellow mages.”

“Again, I’m Herald of nothing, but regardless, you are giving us just a plain offer of aid? No long negotiations or hidden plots? There has to be a catch in there somewhere.” Gabriel wondered, still polite, but suspicious of her intentions.

“The mages are willing to discuss the matter with the Inquisition, at least. Which is more than can be said of the Templars. Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe. An alliance could help us both, after all. I hope to see you there my lord.  _ Au revoir _ .” She dipped her head courteously before walking away.

“It’s quite refreshing to have someone speak to me civilly after the Chantry mother and the Templars.” Gabriel mused aloud. “I wouldn’t mind siding with the mages if it’s all going to be that easy. Though we should probably talk to the advisors about who to side with before we make that decision…. either way though I should at least read the notes I got before returning to Haven.”

  
  


If Azrael didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Gabriel and Sera would skip off into the sunset together. The two clicked the second “No breeches” left the blonde elf’s mouth. When Azrael met Sera for the first time, she had to be convinced to let the Red Jenny into her Inner Circle, but with her brother, Sera hardly needed to ask.

“I want in.” Sera announced.

“Yes!”

“Really? Just like that?” The speed of Gabriel’s agreement took her, and the other companions, by surprise. Solas tried to fit in a short protest, but the eager elf was already talking.

“Yes! Now come on! We have a foot–”

“Fête.” Cassandra corrected.

“A ffff… to attend. Maybe you can take the nobles’ breeches too!” Gabe cackled.

Sera punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m always for droppin’ a noble’s pants. And for them droppin’  _ in _ their pants. As in  _ shitting _ ‘em.” That earned another cackle and a high-five. Then, Gabriel grabbed her arm and rushed away, off to their next adventure.

Despite their merriment, Azrael couldn’t help but feel a spike of jealousy slice through her as she and the thoers chased after the enthusiastic elves. Why wasn’t  _ her _ arm in her brother’s grasp as they ran, laughing breathlessly? She could hardly blame Sera for Gabriel liking her. Azrael had always loved the brash elve’s pranks herself, but something about seeing the two of them together felt like she was being replaced.

 

“I’m amazed that you were able to convince the Lady Vivienne to join our cause, Herald,” Josephine commented from inside her office. “This will undoubtedly gain us more influence with the Orlesian court.”

“Because no one has the balls to speak against her?” Gabriel’s comment was barely decipherable through the door. Azrael knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but she wanted to talk with Gabriel and if she just so happened to be waiting right outside the door and hear the conversation, then so be it.

Josephine giggled. “There are better ways to say it, but yes.”

“You don’t believe me?” He retorted. “I’ve seen a lot of scary people in my life, but she takes the cake, platter, silverware, and tablecloth, and puts it on display surrounded by gilded leaves.”

Josephine laughed again, and silence momentarily fell until she piped up with a question. “Herald, do you feel welcome here in Haven? I fear that some may be giving you trouble… because you’re an elvhen mage.”

Gabriel gasped in mock surprise. “I’m a  _ what? _ I always thought my magical pointy ears were simply a cute little quirk!”

“Well, those, ah…” she laughed nervously. “ _ Quirks _ , as you call them, are the source of many crass comments.”

“So long as they don’t spit on me again, they can say whatever they like,” he replied.

The sudden concern in Josephine’s voice took Azrael by surprise. “They’ve  _ spat  _ on you?”

Azrael could imagine her brother waving his hand as his laugh brushed away the Antivan woman’s worry. “Only in Val Royeaux so far. There was this one  _ shem _ at Vivienne’s party, he got me right in the eye from ten feet away! If I had such good aim and distance, I’m sure I’d spit on people too! On second thought, she literally iced him, so I guess it’s not as good of an idea as I thought.” It sounded like a lighthearted jest, but Azrael knew her brother. As much as he joked to dispel other people’s worries, it was also a cover up for his own. He had once told her that if you can laugh at your own shortcomings, then no one can use them against you.

Josephine, bless her perceptiveness, seemed to hear the barely detectable tightness in his voice, for she simply hummed quietly and continued to the body of her questioning. “I believe that if more people knew how you and your sister were raised, then that would lessen the rumors. And the spitting.”

“How I grew up?” The strain to keep his voice light was more apparent than before.

Azrael sighed. Her childhood was not a fond memory, her brother’s decidedly less so. “Why would knowing my childhood help any? It wasn’t that remarkable… besides Leliana could probably tell you everything you wanted to know. I swear that woman could tell you exactly how many times you sneezed on a particular day 10 years ago.” 

“Leliana mentioned that there were events in your past she felt you would be uncomfortable sharing with others, so I thought it would be best to hear from you. Of course, you don’t have to tell me everything, but maybe just a few bits you feel comfortable with other people knowing.”

“I-I’m sorry, but how exactly is this going to help? Listen, I can tell you that the Dalish– we just traveled,” his voice was getting softer and faster. “Y’know, like nomads do. We did Dalish-like stuff and...things...”

“The more people get to know you, the more inclined they are to respect you. Were you always with the Dalish? Your accent isn’t that of most Dalish, were you raised elsewhere?”

Silence.

Josephine must have realized that she had pushed too far because she quickly tried to apologize, but Gabriel had already thrown open the door and stalked out.

“Gabriel!” Azrael called after him as she tried to catch up. He barely slowed down for her. “ _ Isa’ma’lin _ , wait. Why don’t you just tell her? This is only going to raise more questions.”

Gabriel spun around. “Why don’t  _ you? _ ” he snapped. “Why don’t you just tell the world about a life I’m still trying my  _ damndest _ to forget?” Azrael couldn’t think of a reply as she stared at him, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions he was trying to wrestle down. He was angry and afraid, yet it wasn’t all directed at what Josephine had tried to discuss. He seemed genuinely anger at her. But why?

Sensing no response or rebuttal, Gabriel turned and stormed out of the Chantry without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ Elvish ~  
> isa’ma’lin~ brother  
> Edhis~ prick


	8. Chapter 8

Gabriel was avoiding her, and Azrael just couldn't figure out why. She knew that their talk in the Chantry had angered him, but he’d never shut her out like this. It had always been them against the world, and sibling disputes were a rarity. It was unthinkable that he would want to stay angry at her. Yet he hadn’t tried to talk to her about what had happened for several days, and purposefully dodged the conversation when she brought it up. So when they set out to the Hinterlands again to talk to the Grey Warden, Azrael found herself avoiding the issue as well. To keep the peace she would pretend everything was fine, but inside her stress clawed away at her.

 

Finding Blackwall and convincing him to join the Inquisition was as easy as she remembered. He was a friendly and kind man whom Azrael had quite admired last time around. Even though it did increase their ratio of people pretending to be something they weren’t, she never really blamed Thom. It took a great deal of strength to admit you had done wrong and face the consequences. Now, she admired his courage even more, for learning how hard it would be to reveal who you truly were and possibly lose all your closest friends.

Gabriel’s first meeting with him was a bit different than hers, though. Azrael doubted that whatever Blackwall was expecting the Herald to be, it certainly wasn’t an elf who chased down and tackled multi-colored rams. Varric nearly cracked a rib laughing, while Azrael nearly had a heart attack when she remembered that a Rage Demon resided inside the rainbowed ram. Blackwall had run over from the small cabin by the lake to help take it down.

After the demon crumbled to ash, Az overheard Gabe whispering to Solas, “I didn’t know demons could possess rams.” She couldn’t hear the older elf’s reply, but the interested noise that her twin made confirmed that Solas was going to be bombarded with questions as soon as the opportunity arose. She smiled to herself, remembering how he would barrage the Keeper with his curiosity and drive her mad with repeated “Why?”s until she swatted him on the back of the head. 

“You should stop smiling like that,” Sera suddenly popped into her view. “Makes you look old. Like a granny who can’t tell the difference ‘tween today and twenny years ago.”

“I don’t look old!” Az replied, a little offended.

“Your white hair says otherwise, granny. ‘Ooooh, Herbert,’” Sera spoke in what she thought was the voice of a grandmother. “‘Them petunias’r lookin’ so lovely this time’a year–’ ow!” She rubbed her shoulder where Az punched her.

“Respect your elders!” Az waggled a finger, laughing at Sera’s expression. Sera’s reply was a loud raspberry, and she scampered off to see what Gabriel was saying to their newest recruit. Azrael huffed a fond sigh, following the others at a distance as the party began to move off again. 

“I’m not that old…..” She muttered to herself. Her body was only about 28, but her soul was 35. _Or is it 63? Do you combine the age of both me’s?_ _Either way, that still isn’t too old._

“I wouldn’t take what Sera says too seriously. She certainly doesn’t.” A voice spoke behind her, and Azrael practically jumped out of her skin spinning around. Solas held up his hands placatingly.

“ _ Ir abelas,  _ I didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiled at her gently. 

“It’s alright, I’ve just been distracted lately.” She replied ruefully. 

“Perhaps sharing your quandary would clear your thoughts? Two minds solve a puzzle much faster than one.” He seemed honest enough about his offer, but Azrael wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share.  _ I’m actually a spirit-y thing from an alternate future trying to thwart your plans and save my friends, but my brother is being an ass so I’m kinda stressed out about everything.  _ She thought with bitter sarcasm, but she didn’t allow her annoyance to show on her face.

“This whole situation is just a bit much I suppose. I never thought I was the kind of person who would end up as an important member of an organization trying to save the world. Plus, Gabe seems angry at me for something he won’t talk about.” She settled for the easiest answer that was as close to the truth as she could get. 

“That is understandable. The situation at hand is unlike anything anyone has ever encountered before. It would be odd if you were not nervous about the outcome. As for your brother, I believe the Herald has a great deal on his mind as well. I’d imagine he shares your worries and does not truly mean to push you away.” Solas smiled at her again and Azrael felt some of her worries lift. She could hardly remember his smile from before. After he left her at Crestwood the expression never truly reached his eyes like it had before. Then, as the war raged, they had turned bittersweet and so terribly sad they could hardly be called smiles at all.

“I see your point Solas. By the way, his name is Gabriel. He doesn’t like the title ‘Herald.’” She returned his smile even as his face shifted to give her a thoughtful look.

“I believe I have been told that before.”

“Oh?” She kept her voice light and intrigued as internally she panicked over the fact she had practically parroted the words she said to him in a dream. “It was probably me or Gabe.”

“Surprisingly, it was neither of you, but rather an interesting spirit I encountered in theFade.” 

“Isn’t speaking with demons dangerous?” Azrael hated to play ignorant, but knowing the difference between spirits and demons was something few people understood. Especially considering her “inexperience” with theFade.

“It was not a demon. Spirits embody the positive aspects of humanity, as demons embody the negative. Spirits tend to help or merely observe, and I believe this one to be looking out for your brother.” He sounded polite enough, but Azrael knew him well enough to hear his faint exasperation at having to explain what he believed should be obvious.

“What sort of spirit was it?” She inquired, interested to see what he thought of her, since she herself had no idea.

“Most people would dispute my ideas of spirits and demons.” He replied instead.

“Why would I argue with you about a subject you obviously know much more about? That would be an effort in madness,” she said. “Besides I’m certainly not ‘most people’, I’m an individual. If you believe everyone to act the same, you’re not going to get very far. But back to the question.” He was giving her an odd look again, and she had to control her impulse to roll her eyes. If he kept expecting her to be normal, his stupid face was going to get stuck in a position of perpetual surprised confusion.

“I am unsure as to the exact nature of this spirit. It half implied it was Love, yet that is not quite right,” he mused. “The way it guards Gabriel’s dreams is similar to Protection, but it is more than that. It haunts libraries like Wisdom, rebukes like Morality, wallows like Sorrow, and yet is none of them entirely. If only I could find it again, I have far too many questions…  _ Abelas lethallan,  _ I don’t tend to ramble so.” He finished sheepishly, and Azrael couldn’t help but laugh. Solas frowned at her apparent mockery of him.

“I’m not laughing at you for not knowing, Solas. It’s just that you don't need to apologizing for being curious about something you do not understand.” 

“I apologized because I could not determine a simple aspect of the field in which I should be an expert.” He retorted, clearly annoyed at himself.

“Even experts can be baffled by new aspects of their study. Perhaps we can apply your early advice and I can help you solve your problem. Tell me about this spirit?” she suggested.

Though still miffed over his not understanding, Solas did open up to her about the spirit, relaying in part what their encounter had been. She noticed he left out the bits about his true identity and plan, but was otherwise faithful to the facts of the meeting. He then described what parts reminded him which spirits, presenting everything as if he were a scholar analyzing the results of an experiment with unusual results. Azrael contributed her own interpretation, and they continued to discussion all the way back to camp.

“I hope you find that spirit again sometime. I’d love to hear more.” Azrael said before they split off to their respective tents.

“I will be sure to tell you if I do encounter it again then. It was nice to have someone to contribute to my theories.” Solas replied.

Azrael couldn’t help but smile as she slipped into her tent and out of her grimy armor, changing swiftly into clean traveling clothes. While not exactly her main concern as the war raged, Azrael had certainly missed Solas and had never truly forsaken her love for him. To have him close again made her heart feel more warm than it had in years. She could easily fall back in love with him, and then… then he would break her heart again. Of course she would try to change his mind, but who knew if it would really work. Things could easily get worse if she ended up chasing Solas away from the Inquisition by mistake with her pestering. Besides, it would hardly be fair to him. She knew exactly what to do to gain his approval, what to say to get him to love her; and she knew she could not use him like that. With a heavier heart, Azrael left the tent to eat dinner with the others.

The meal passed uneventfully. Gabriel sat close to Solas across the fire from Azrael discussing something she was not able to hear, while next to her Varric spoke to Sera about some of his more spectacular adventures with Hawke. Azrael herself made polite conversation with Cassandra and Blackwall. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but when it came time to retire for the evening, Azrael stared into the dark of her tent, disquieted. A nebulous feeling of sadness and worry churned in her stomach for a long time before she drifted finally into sleep.

Her plan had been to meet Solas that evening as a spirit, but when the darkness parted she still felt disconnected from the Fade. Azrael stood at the balcony of her old room in Skyhold, looking out over the looming snow covered mountains. She frowned and turned to look over the room. It was completely empty. No giant bed, no carpet, no desk littered with papers, no harp, Azrael had never seen the room look this bare before. Since she had returned to the past, Azrael had never had a normal dream, always finding herself in the Fade upon sleeping, but this was certainly not the Fade.  _ Could this be a dream? It feels so real…  _ Warily she walked down the steps of the tower room and cautiously peaked out the door into the great hall. It too was completely empty; no owl throne, no banners for each of her inner circle, no nobles fussing, no Varric with his desk by the fire. Azrael wished she had any sort of weapon with her, for, while there was nothing overtly dangerous, a strong sense of unease was crawling up her spine. 

Walking quickly, she entered the hall and made way to the exit, glancing about her furtively as she did. The grand doors were shut, but as she reached up a hand to attempt to open them the sound of a door slamming open echoed from behind her. Spinning frantically around, a hand shot up on instinct to draw the sword that normally rested at her back. Her hand met empty air, but her eyes locked with those of the person who had entered the hall. Solas, dressed as she had seen him at the Exalted Council, stormed in from his old rotonda pausing for a fraction of a second as he laid eyes on her before advancing.

“You!” His voice was a cold snarl, and, for the first time, Azrael feared the Dread Wolf. “How dare you come back!”

“I-I don’t…. what?” Her own voice came out in a panicked stutter as she took a step away from him, back hitting the unyielding wood of the great doors.

“Do not play games with me! Did you really think you deserved a second chance?” He stopped barely a step away from her, eyes glowing with stormy power.

“I don’t know what you're talking about! Please Solas, you’re scaring me.”  His arm shot out, grasping the front of her tunic and lifting her off the ground. She flailed, trying in vain to fend him off.

“You failed, and it will only be worse this time. You are a failure.” Azrael froze at the pure venom in his words and stared down at the man in horror. 

“You have it wrong Solas! I’m trying to make things better!” As he opened his mouth to reply another voice spoke. 

“Put her down.” Azrael’s head shot up to see Gabriel standing in the middle of the room. He was here to save her, she knew it.

Gabriel’s face lit up with a smile, but not the warm grin that she knew. Instead, it was bitter, with anger and disappointment dancing behind his eyes. “Unlike you, she  _ actually _ killed me.” He laughed. “I think I deserve to be the one to return the favor.” Azrael’s stomach dropped. 

Suddenly, people were pouring into the room from all entrances. Her inner circle, advisors, friends, clan mates, soldiers, Templars, mages, anyone she had ever seen. Everyone she had wronged, everyone she had let down, everyone she had gotten killed with her foolishness. They all spoke at once, the great room filling with their screams of hate and shouts of anguish:

“You were a terrible leader!”  “How could you not save us?” “Things would be better if you had just died!” “I can’t believe we ever thought an elf could do anything right!” “Being your friend was a mistake!” “You led us all to ruin!” “You’ve forsaken your heritage!” “You abandoned us to die!” 

“ **You’ll never be strong enough to save us** .”

They chorused together, one voice of terrible intent. Azrael wanted to shout back she was doing her best, that she wanted to do better and save them, but all the air seemed to have gone out of the room. She gasped and her hands reached up to her neck vainly trying to find what was strangling her. She felt the rough twine of a heavy rope digging into her throat. As everything went dark around her all she could think was  _ Dear gods, please not again! _

  
She woke with a start, sitting up and staring confusedly at the dark walls of the tent around her. _It was a nightmare._ Azrael felt warmth on her face and reached up a trembling hand to brush away the tears. _Just a nightmare._ Drawing up her knees, she curled up and let herself cry silently into her legs. She didn’t have a gravestone in the Fade at Adamant last time, but now she was pretty sure she knew what it would read: Failing Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ Elvish ~  
> Ir abelas~ I am sorry (formal)  
> abelas~ sorry (informal)  
> lethallan~ Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar; a friend.


	9. Chapter 9

Azrael didn't fall back asleep that night, and when Gabriel called for them to pack and move on to Redcliffe, she was wrung out. There was a tightness in her chest and it almost felt like the butterflies in her stomach had turned to stone.

Inside her tent, Azrael slumped as she readjusted to the unfortunately familiar feeling. After the long years of war it was easy to remember the way dread, sadness, and a soul deep weariness affected her. So when she stepped out to greet the others it was out of habit more than anything that she let herself hide behind the mask of Inquisitor Lavellan. Practical to a fault, with a kind heart, yet no time for foolishness and humor, it was a facade that the war had perfected. She ate breakfast silently, stomach rebelling, but she knew she’d need the energy.

Even though she faked normalcy, as they began to walk, she found her hand often straying up to her neck as if to find the noose. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for Gabriel’s companions to notice something was off. Varric tried his best to cajole a reason out of her, but she politely brushed him off, saying she had simply slept poorly that night. The others didn’t pry, but Azrael knew that no one was convinced by that and could feel eyes on her back the whole way to Redcliffe.

Thankfully the attention was turned away from her odd behavior as they reached the town gates and the rift that lay before them. The shades and demons themselves was weak, but the time distortions made their movements erratic, seeming to appear and reappear at random, making it hard to coordinate and predict attacks. There were no serious injuries, but once the rift was closed everyone was left confused by the odd occurrence.

“Well that was different.” Gabriel remarked casually as the gates opened. “Here’s hoping the rest of the trip will be normal.”

Azrael couldn’t help but laugh for the first time that day. “I think you may have jinxed things brother.” She replied as an Inquisition scout walked up to them.

“We spread word the Inquisition was coming, but you should know that no one here was expecting us.” The scout reported, and Gabriel hung his head in mock despair and groaned.

“Oh come on! Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona? She was so nice too….” he whined.

“If she was, she hasn’t told anyone. We’ve arranged use of the tavern for negotiations.”

As Gabriel thanked the scout, an elf ran up the path from the village to stand before them.

“Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies!” he panted. “Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn’t yet arrived. He’s expected shortly. You can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime.” The elf was polite and his voice sincere, but Azrael could see Gabriel’s entire body tense up at his words. Even though she had known that a Magister was present, Azrael still felt her own fear bubble up as well. Reaching out her hand, she took hold of Gabriel’s, as much to support him as it was for herself. Gabriel gave the other elf a jerky nod and watched intently as he wandered back down the path.

“Why is this place so weird?” Sera complained.

“Couldn’t agree more Sera, this place is far too strange. How about we just turn around now and forget about it?” Gabriel replied quickly, his smile forced, and his hand holding Azrael’s in a death grip.

“Things are clearly wrong, we can’t simply walk away.” Cassandra rebuked. “Especially since we are already this far in.”

Gabriel began to nervously chew his lower lip.

“I agree.” Blackwall added. “We have a meeting set, we should see to it.” He crossed his arms across his chest.

Solas chipped in. “It would also be unwise to simply turn a blind eye to the Tevinter presence here.”  Gabriel looked to Varric and Sera for support, but the dwarf merely shrugged, and Sera just made a disgruntled face.

“I guess I’m out voted then. On to Redcliffe village!” Gabriel cheered quietly and unenthusiastically.

While the others walked a little ways ahead, Gabriel and Azrael hung back slightly, still clutching each other’s hand.

“It’ll be okay Gabe, we don’t need to side with the Magister.” She murmured to him.

“I don’t even want to be near that void-cursed piece of shit!” He growled back. There was a beat of silence before he lowered his voice to whisper, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t go back there...”

“I know.” She replied her own voice barely audible. Looking up she saw Varric eyeing the two of them sadly. As their eyes met, he smiled comfortingly before turning to watch the path forward again. He’d always been good at reading people, and not for the first time Azrael wondered just how clearly he was able to see into the soul of a matter.

As they entered the town proper, Gabriel released her hand and took the lead to move them more swiftly to their goal. It looked as if he wanted to spend as little time as possible in Redcliffe. It didn’t take long to reach the Gull and Lantern tavern at his brisk pace. Stepping inside, it was clear most of the usual patrons had been herded out, leaving only Fiona and a few mages at the far end of the room.

“Welcome, agents of the Inquisition.” The Grand Enchanter greeted. “What has brought you to Redcliffe?”

“Was that a rhetorical question, ‘cause it was you who brought us here. Invited us at Val Royeaux to talk over an alliance, actually.” Gabriel replied, slipping back into his relaxed, carefree persona. Azrael eyed him carefully, knowing this was going to turn into a tough conversation.

“You must be mistaken. I haven’t been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.” Fiona said with confusion.

“You don’t happen to have an identical twin then? Whoever talked to us looked and sounded an awful lot like you.” He shot back.

“I–no, I have no siblings.” Fiona faltered, a strange look passing over her face as if trying to recall a fading dream. She took a breath and tried to recover her poise. “Whoever…. or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages have already…. pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.”

“Enslaved, you mean.” Gabriel said, no more humor in his voice, and his face serious. Azrael worried the sleeve of her tunic, knowing that her brother was truly angry now.

“We are indentured to a Magister, not his slaves!” Fiona fired back, tone angry, but her eyes held only fear. She knew as well as the twins did, that whatever name she wanted to call it what she had done was slavery for her people. “As such, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.”

“Then tell me, where is your _master_?” The venom in Gabriel’s voice caused Fiona to flinch.

Azrael thought she heard Varric mutter something like: “Sounds like Fenris…”, before the tavern door swung open to reveal two Tevene men.

Magister Alexius strode in proudly with his son behind him, and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome, my friends! I apologize for not greeting you earlier.”

Gabriel didn’t even bother to pretend to smile. Azrael felt her own revulsion rising.

“Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius.” Fiona heralded formally.

“The southern mages are under my command. And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? Interesting.” Alexius addressed Gabriel, eyes alight with curiosity.

Gabriel himself couldn’t help but bristle under the Magister’s scrutiny. “What exactly is going on here?” he bit out. “I want to know everything.”

“When the Conclave was destroyed, these poor souls faced the brutality of the Templars, who rushed to attack them. It could only be through divine providence that I arrived when I did.” Alexius began, his tone pitying, like he was telling a story to a child.

“It was certainly…. very timely.” Fiona added, slightly skeptical.

“But, our southern brethren have no legal status in the Imperium, as they were not born citizens of Tevinter.” He continued smoothly. “So we agreed to a term of indenturement. They must work for a period of ten years before gaining full rights. As their protector, I shall oversee their work for the Imperium. While it may seem like we have drawn the short stick in this deal, the Imperium shall gain a great deal from this alliance. After they are properly trained, they will join our legion.” He ended cheerily, but Azrael could practically smell the smugness radiating off the man.

“You said not all my people would be military! There are children, those not suited-” Fiona broke in concernedly, before Alexius cut her off.

“And one day, I’m sure they will all be productive citizens of the Imperium. _When their debts are paid_.” His honey words turned to ice and Fiona shrank back, not daring to say more. Azrael’s fists clenched in fury. Dorian had always insisted Alexius had been a good man, but all she saw in him was the shadow of the man whom she hated more than anything.

“Well, I need some mages to help in closing the Breach, perhaps we can work something out?” Gabriel inquired. His voice was professionally cool, but anyone who knew how he normally acted could see the hatred simmering away within him.

“Right to business! I understand, of course.” Alexius’s voice was cordial once more as he gestured Gabriel over to sit at a small table. “Felix, would you send for a scribe, please? Pardon my manners, my son Felix, friends.” Felix gave a deep bow to Gabriel, who nodded back unsteadily, unused to such courtesy from Tevinter mages. As the young altus walked out of the tavern, Azrael frowned sadly. She had heard a great deal about the man from Dorian, and it was a shame she knew of no way to save him. There was no known cure for the Blight, but it still hurt to feel so useless.

“I am not surprised you are here. Containing the Breach is not a feat that many could even  attempt,” the Magister started. “There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavor. Ambitious indeed.”

“I find that a constant in my life is attempting things others won’t. However, in this case I believe it to very much be a case of go big, or die trying.” Gabriel’s smile was more a display of teeth than a symbol of humor.

“There will have to be-” Alexius cut himself off as Felix stumbled back into the tavern, his face pale and obviously unwell, Azrael rushed forward to catch him as he fell.

“Felix!” The magister was on his feet in an instant rushing over to his son.

“My lady, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” Felix said to Azrael, pulling out of her grasp and slipping a piece of paper discretely into her hand. He moved a step away to stand hunched over, a hand to his abdomen.

“It’s fine, but are you okay?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and suddenly saw it glow as her wish to heal him translated into magic.

“I’m fine really, don’t waste magic on something as small as this.” He said, brushing her hand away, though he did stand a little taller for her effort.

“Come, I’ll get your powders.” Alexius murmured hurriedly. “Please excuse me, friends. We will have to continue this another time. I will send word to the Inquisition when it is opportune for us to meet again.” He hovered anxiously over his son, helping him out of the tavern. “Fiona, I require your assistance back at the castle.” She nodded hurrying over to the Magisters side.  
“I don’t mean to trouble everyone.” Felix added meekly as the entourage left. Once the room was empty of outsiders, Gabriel let out a sigh.

“Well, then. That went swimmingly.” He said with bitter sarcasm.

“Felix gave me a note when he fell.” Azrael said, handing it over.

“‘Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.’” Gabriel read aloud. “When aren’t I in danger?”

“It is an obvious trap.” Cassandra said.

“Then let’s go spring it so I can  kill me a Magister.” Gabriel replied, face far too grim to be joking.

“Do you two have a history we should be aware of?” Blackwall asked confusedly.

“Yeah, you’re pretty pissed, and that looked _real_ personal-like.” Sera piped up.

“I’ve never met Alexius before this, but anything involving Tevinter Magisters is definitely personal.” Gabriel replied, stalking over to the tavern door and away from the conversation. The party’s attention shifted to Azrael, who let out a heavy sigh.

“We were born in Tevinter,” she began. “Our mother was Dalish, but was captured and sold into slavery. Our father was another slave of the house, but was… gone by the time we were born. Our mother taught us all about the Dalish and what it was like to be free. We grew up there until, when we turned eleven, Gabriel found his magic. Mother begged us to flee, saying it wasn’t safe anymore. Magister Iucundus prefered to use mage slaves, like our father, for his blood magic.  And so out mother orchestrated our freedom. It wasn’t until we were out ourselves that we realized her own escape had never been part of the plan… We were on our own for a long time before clan Lavellan took us in. I’m sorry for hiding this from you, but it’s not something either of us like to talk about.” She finished lamely looking away as to avoid their pity.

“Thank you for telling us _lethallan_ , it is brave to bring back the pains of one’s past.” Solas comforted. She smiled at him weakly.

“C’mon, yeah!” Said Sera, bounding over to stand by Gabriel at the door, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “I’ve an urge to put an arrow through Magister’s eyes and fuck up their shit.” While Azrael knew they didn’t all approve of Sera’s word choice, the others followed Gabriel out of the tavern and up to the Chantry with no complaint. Azrael noticed his smile was back and let some of her tension bleed out at knowing he had calmed down some. She had always admired how Gabriel was able to power through tough situations and bounce back to his light-hearted self. Even if he sometimes avoided difficult matters of their past, she couldn’t really blame him. Besides, he had to know that she would always be there for him if he needed her support. They would always have each other’s backs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new elvish words in this chapter, but instead I'd like to offer a sincere thank you to you all. Whether you've just stopped by, or have kudosed, commented, or bookmarked it means a lot to me. I make sure to read all your comments, and all the positive feedback makes me feel so happy (and is a great incentive to write more). So, thank you :D


	10. Chapter 10

The Chantry stood forlornly at the edge of the village, the large doors firmly shut. Chantry sisters milled outside with their flock. It didn’t take long to learn that the building had been closed due to the presence of the rift within. Azrael was honestly surprised the door hadn’t been more heavily barred. Demons were inept, but they could push open a door easily enough. But because of the rift, the Chantry would be empty, and perfect for an ambush. She wasn’t too worried however, knowing that it would just be Dorian. She had grown close to the man during the fight against Corypheus, and even after they kept in contact through letters and the special crystal. The latter of which he enjoyed using to pester her during war meetings. 

“Everyone set for a fight?” Gabriel asked and received various words of ascent from the party. He squared his shoulders and pushed the great doors inward. Inside was indeed a sputtering rift surrounded by demons who were all focused upon the lone mage in the Chantry. Dorian smacked a shade with his staff causing it to crumble and turned to address as the group as they entered, the door closing behind them.

“Good! You’re finally here! Now help me close this, would you?”

Azrael could barely keep in her joy at seeing her best friend again. 

Gabriel paused, glancing from Dorian, to the rift, then back to Dorian. Then, he promptly turned on his heel and made to walk out of the Chantry.

“Hey! What–!” Dorian called. The rest of the party voiced similar outcries, including Az herself.

Gabriel made no sign that he was going to answer, but when he placed his hand on the door, the floor underneath him glowed green, giving him a second’s warning before he was flung off his feet by a terror demon. The demon screeched and raised its arm to skewer its victim, who was scrambling back to grab his staff, which was far out of reach.

Azrael was already charging toward the demon when a cold rush snapped ahead of her and froze it instantly. Still using her momentum, she swung her blade around and shattered the icey figure into large chunks of ectoplasm popsicles. She turned and grinned in thanks at Dorian, who flicked residual magic off of his fingers like it was nothing.

The rift throbbed and spewed out several more demons, and the familiar sounds of swords rasping out of their sheaths, Bianca’s gears clicking, and the spark of staves rang out as the group readied themselves for battle. 

With six people, it was difficult to maneuver as freely as Az would prefer, but it also made the fight relatively quick and painless. When the last demon was struck down, Gabriel threw his hand up and ripped the rift closed. 

“Fascinating. How does that work, exactly?” Dorian inquired, wandering closer to Gabriel. “You don’t even know, do you?” he chuckled. “You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes.”

“Actually, it works when I  _ lasa adahl su nar masa. _ ” Gabriel replied, a large false smile on his face.

Az’s eyes widened in shock. “Gabe! You shouldn’t….he hasn’t even done anything wrong yet–”

“I  _ can _ , and I  _ will _ . You’re not–” he ground his teeth. “You’re not my mother.”

“I do believe I’ve missed something.” Dorian broke in. “Regardless, I have already gotten ahead of myself. Introductions should always come first, Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?” Azrael thanked whoever was listening that Dorian didn’t know any elvish. Though it also helped that he wasn’t the type to be easily angered by insults either, he deserved much better. 

Dorian continued. “Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable - As I’m sure you can imagine.”

“I’ve had enough of sweet tongued Tevinters for one day, altus. Twenty words is all you get to explain yourself before I leave.” Gabriel said bitterly, with an expression to match, crossing his arms over his chest. Dorian stood speechless for a moment, amazed by Gabriel’s extreme lack of any sort of tact.

“My apologies, he doesn’t mean that, Dorian.” Azrael broke in. 

Gabriel grumbled beside her. “I really do.”  She elbowed him in the side.

“I, at least, am willing to hear you out,” she continued kindly. “My name is Azrael Lavellan, this idiot is my brother Gabriel, and then we have Solas, Blackwall, Sera, Cassandra Pentaghast, and Varric Tethras.” She pointed to each in turn as she named them.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet the rest of you at least,” the altus said, bowing. 

“I suspect you’re the one who sent that note?” Azrael inquired.

“I am. Someone had to warn you, after all. Look, you must know there’s danger. That should be obvious even without the note. Let’s start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself.”

“That can’t possibly be true.” Gabriel butted in irritably.

“The rift you closed here? You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up and slowed others down. Soon there will be more like it, and they’ll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius used is wildly unstable, and it’s unraveling the world.” Dorian retorted.

“Oh come on! How do I know what you’re saying is even close to true?” Gabriel replied vehemently.

“I know what I’m talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don’t understand is why he’s doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lakeys?”

“He didn’t do it for them.” Said a voice behind the group. 

“Took you long enough. Is he getting suspicious?” Dorian asked Felix as he approached.

“No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card. I thought he’d be fussing over me all day.” Felix turned from Dorian to address Gabriel who stood in front of the others. “My father has joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves ‘Venatori.’ And I can tell you one thing: Whatever he’s done for them, he’s done it to get to you.”

“That’s just peachy.” Gabriel replied sarcastically. “What does he want, and why are you working against your own father?”

“The Venatori are obsessed with you, but I don’t know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” Felix ventured.

“You can close the rifts. Maybe there’s a connection? Or they see you as a threat?” Dorian added.

“If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the breach in the sky, their even worse than I thought.” Felix finished. Azrael had to refrain from bursting in and saying that it wasn’t just the Venatori, they were being used by Corypheus through false promises and other coercions. 

“That’s also why I’m working against my father. Why Dorian is as well. I love my father, and I love my country.” Gabriel snorted at that, but Felix continued, “But this? Cults? Time magic? What he’s doing is madness. For his own sake, you have to stop him.”

“It would also be nice if he didn’t rip a hole in time. There’s already one in the sky.” Dorian broke in.

“I’m all for killing your father.” Gabriel told Felix happily. Azrael kicked him not so subtly in the leg. “In order to stop the destruction of time, of course.” He added.

“Since we know you’re his target, expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can’t stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But whenever you’re ready to deal with him, I’ll be in touch.” Dorian bid his farewells and made to move to the back of the Chantry. Before exiting he turned back to his friend and said.“Oh, and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed.” 

“There are worse things than dying, Dorian.” Felix replied before turning to go himself. Azrael winced, remembering what had become of him in the false future.

“We should head back to Haven to discuss this with Leliana and the others.” Cassandra said.

“Sure thing.” Gabriel mumbled, his brow furrowed as he puzzled over something that was clearly distressing him.

Azrael started to leave with the others, but her brother grabbed her arm. “Not you. We need to talk.” 

“We’ll wait outside,” Cassandra confirmed. 

Azrael watched as the doors slowly closed, then turned to look at him. “What did you want to–” A sudden force threw her roughly against a wall. Her head cracked against the stone and she gasped in pain, then forced her eyes open to see Gabriel’s face, twisted in fury, hovering inches from her face.

“So  _ Tevinter _ , is it?” he snarled. “That’s your plan?”

“Gabe? What–” she was slammed once more against the wall.

“ _ Shut up. _ You are  _ not _ my sister, so stop pretending. Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice?” Gabriel laughed scathingly. “I know I play the fool, but I’m not an idiot! Really, a new eye color, magic,  _ come on! _ It’s  _ far _ too obvious! So tell me, what are your plans? Let Tevinter gain a foothold in the Inquisition, then watch as the world burns?”

Azrael could only stare in stunned silence. She tried to wrap her thoughts around what he was saying, but nothing fit together.  _ What happened? He was smiling and laughing with me just hours before! _ she thought desperately.

“I told you why I was different than before, Gabe. Please, I’m just trying to help.” Azrael tired for diplomatic, but she could hear the fear in her own voice.

“Yeah, ‘a spirit from the future’, like I’d believe something like that! What are you really? Is it blood magic? Demons? Or something else? Is my sister even in there anymore?!” Behind his anger, his voice was laced with desperate grief, and Azrael felt her heart break.

“I _ am _ your sister!” she cried. “How do you explain my foreknowledge if not for me being from the future?”

“None of what you’ve told me has even happened yet! And if you’re pulling the strings, of course you would know what’s going to happen.”

“If you never believed me in the first place, why did you pretend? Why didn’t you just kill me?” she snapped back.

An uncertain look flew across his face, gone so quickly that she wasn’t sure if she even saw it. “I wasn’t–I  _ wanted _ to be sure. You were clever, I’ll admit. You have her mannerisms, her memories,  _ everything. _ ” His face hardened again. “Unfortunately, you weren’t good enough.”

“If you won’t believe me please, just wait and see. I couldn’t possibly be behind all that will happen!”

“Maybe you aren’t the boss, but the Magisters could have summoned you to work for them and give me false information.”

“This has barely anything to do with Tevinter! This is about the power of old gods and the world falling apart as it’s filled with demons and red lyrium!” Azrael felt her anger rise from her frustration, shouting right back at her brother. How could he have doubted her this whole time?

“ _ Old gods? _ ” he snapped incredulously. “For all you claim, his ‘godhood’ Solas is most certainly not Fen’Harel! You will not take away my faith in the Creators with stories of power-crazy, immortal generals!”

“Fine! Believe what you want to believe! It won’t change what is true!”

Gabriel laughed humorlessly. “What is true…” he repeated quietly. He released her and took a step back, running an exhausted hand down his face. “Everything out of your mouth has been a fucking lie, and you have the balls to tell me ‘what’s true’.  _ Fenedhis _ .” 

Azrael felt all the anger drain out of her at the sight of her brother.“Please, if you don’t believe me, everything is going to fall apart. Everyone is going to die again…  _ Isa’ma’lin  _ let me help you. Let me help them.”

Gabriel backed further away, shaking his head. Tears were pricking at the edges of his eyes. “Of all the people.. you had to take my sister.” His voice cracked. “That’s just… it’s just cruel.” Chewing at his lip, he turned away, and exited the Chantry, leaving Azrael alone with her shattered heart. 

She stood frozen in shock, before she felt the tears gathering in her eyes. Wiping them away furiously, she gathered herself and pushed everything down and away. Now was not the time to be weak, she could still fix this. So she straightened her shoulders and followed her brother out of the Chantry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Elvish~  
> lasa adahl su nar masa: Shove a tree up your ass
> 
> I've been waiting to get to this part for ages! I hope Gabe's sudden change doesn't confuse any of you, but the next chapter will be from Gabriel's perspective and give some insight into his thoughts. Also, I didn't add the unreliable narrator tag for nothing, everything so far has been from Azrael's perspective and she only really sees people as she wants to see them sometimes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Gabriel Lavellan**

Gabriel was afraid. He may not understand much about the situation he had landed in after the conclave, or what the glowing mark on his hand was for, but he knew that whatever had run to him after the explosion had not been his sister. Perhaps if she had died he could have mourned her and moved on, but there she was; an imposter posing as the person he cared for most in the world. So he did what he did best when placed before something that scared him: he ran away.

They had gotten back to Haven several days ago, and instead of talking over how to gain the mages with the others like a sensible person, he had wandered around trying to find any excuse to get away from his sister.  _ She’s not my sister _ , he reminded himself. The man named Krem whom he had found by the Chantry could have been sent by the Creators for how grateful Gabriel was to him. As soon as the words ‘meet at the Storm Coast’ had left his lips Gabriel and grabbed Vivienne, Sera, and Blackwall and told everyone else he needed to leave immediately on ‘important business’.

Before making his great escape though, Gabriel made time to talk to Solas.  _ More like impart cryptic messages and bail. _ He thought self-deprecatingly, remembering how he had run up to the older man simply said “Please keep an eye on my sister while I’m gone, just in case.” and then ran away again. There was something Gabriel seemed to implicitly trust about him, which made ‘the thing that wasn’t his sister’’s theories about him even more bizarre. Solas was a patient, kind, and remarkably intelligent elf that Gabriel had started to look up to as a  _ hahren _ . For him to even be linked to the Dread Wolf was unthinkable. His not-sister had probably been trying to shoo him away from people who could help him in the future, he decided. All she had said about the ‘possible future’ definitely had a hidden agenda to mislead him.

The worst part was, honestly, that he still missed her. He wanted to punch himself. She was some evil demon, blood-magic spawn, possibly undead (and yeah, he  _ really _ hoped not about that last one) thing being controlled by the bastard Magisters, and he still wanted her to be by his side. He’d never been separated from his twin for this long and kept turning to talk to her, only to be greeted by Sera’s cheeky remarks instead. Which all things considered wasn’t that bad; Sera was cool, and after he had warmed up some, so was Blackwall. It was especially funny to see the two of them team up to bother the other mage. He hadn’t intentionally chosen the ‘bother Vivienne party’ but it was amusing regardless. 

He knew that he was just trying to distract himself with humor though. And if sometimes his smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes when an intense feeling of uneasy wrongness coiled in his gut, there wasn’t anyone around who’s known him long enough to tell.  _ Which is the heart of the problem isn’t it?  _ he mused,  _ I barely know these people, but I’m willing to trust them over the person I’ve spent my entire life with. Fucking hell, I’m a mess. _

He ran a hand through his hair and worried his lip as he judged how far they were from the Storm Coast. Krem had accompanied them out of Haven to show them where the Charger’s camp lay, and at the onset he said it should take maybe four days of riding. It was nearing noon of their fourth day now, and Gabriel was alert for the scent of salt water. He grimaced internally at the prospect of returning to the ocean. Iucundus’ house had been right by the sea, drowning the building in the sound of waves and gulls. Then there was the frightful journey to Fereldan. Hidden in a crate within the hold, he had clung tight to his sister as the last vestige of hope he had a better future.  _ And now… _ His mind flashed back to the fight in the Chantry, how when she.. that  _ thing _ , yelled, the rift shown through her eyes and turned her normally dark green vallaslin irridescent, as if it were cracks in her skin letting out the light of her true spirit. His hand idly traced the edge of the tree branch that curled down his wrist. They had both gotten Mythal’s vallaslin in the same color. For their mother, and their past, and their new future, it was supposed to always connect them…. _ And time to file this under ‘shit I’m never thinking about again because it’s too depressing’  _ he thought as the smell of salt hit his nose  _ Gotta man up and be all ‘Herald’-y, I haven’t got the time to be sad. _

“The camp is just over this ridge.” Krem called back from the front of the procession. Gabriel spurred his horse forward to ride next to the man, giving him a friendly smile. Krem was probably the first person to be born in Tevinter that Gabriel didn’t instantly mistrust. He thought it was probably because Krem hadn’t been born into the pampered city life and so didn’t ooze arrogance like most. Though Felix had seemed an honest sort… Perhaps Gabriel had been too hard on him and Dorian when they first met. The whole situation however had riled him, and then there was the issue with his not-sister…  _ I’ll apologize to the Altus’ later  _ he decided, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As they crested the hill, the beach and great expanse of ocean came into view. It also became clear that the figures along the water’s edge were fighting. Gabe swore under his breath, kicking his horse into a steep gallop down the slope, his companion’s at his heels. He threw up a barrier and drew his staff, but didn’t dare start throwing spells until he knew who was on which side. An arrow pinged off his barrier, and he lept from his mount firing a blast of lightning at the archer, rolling as he hit the ground. A blade came down toward him, and Gabriel twirled his staff, knocking the legs out from under the man before the blow fell. He sprang to his feet, unleashing a fireball upon his still prone assailant. He fell into a defensive position, but as he gauged the danger it became apparent that with the extra firepower, the enemy had fallen swiftly.  _ They probably didn’t even need our help.  _ Gabriel realized, looking over the mercenary group called the Chargers, it was plain to see that barely any of them had been injured in the skirmish. 

His gaze lingered on the absurdly huge man with horns and grey skin. Gabriel had never seen a Qunari before, though he had heard of them quite a bit during his time in Tevinter. Somehow he’d always imagined them to be more animalistic and savage looking. More hunched over with slobbering fangs and claws, less smiling at and joking with his newly returned second in command. The horns however, his imagination had gotten perfectly right.

“So you’re with the Inquisition, huh?” the Qunari said, turning to address Gabriel. “Glad you could make it. Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming.”

“If the horns are any indication, I’m guessing you’re Iron Bull. My name is Gabriel Lavellan, and this is Madame Vivienne de Fer, Sera, and Blackwall. I hear you’re looking for work?” Gabriel said turning up the charm.

“I am! Not before my drink, though.” He chuckled, gesturing over to some larger rocks where they could sit. “And it’s  _ The _ Iron Bull. The article is important.” He sat down and Gabriel followed suit. “So...you’ve seen us fight. We’re expensive, but we’re worth it…and I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us.”

“How much exactly? I’m not sure I can just throw around gold that isn’t technically mine.” Gabriel joked.

“Wouldn’t cost you anything personally, unless you wanna buy drinks later,” was the smooth reply. Gabriel wasn’t sure if The Iron Bull had just winked at him, or if it was a normal blink. It was hard to tell with just one eye. He decided to ignore it for now as Bull continued. “Your Ambassador- what’s her name- Josephine? We’d go through her and get the payments set up. The gold will take care of itself. Don’t worry about that. All that matters is we’re worth it.” He laughed rather darkly.

Gabriel nodded, but his eyes carefully scrutinized the Qunari before him. Something felt off about him, and Gabe just couldn’t put his finger on what.  _ Maybe it’s just a Qunari thing to feel disingenuous…  _

“Well the Chargers seem pretty great. The Inquisition could use more experienced fighters,” he said instead, using the truth to cover his misgivings. He’d talk to Leliana about looking into the group more when he got back though, just to make sure.

“You’re not just getting the boys, you’re getting me. You need a frontline bodyguard, I’m your man. Whatever it is- demons, dragons?” He rose from the rock, towering over Gabriel. “The bigger the better.” Gabriel got up himself, forcing his movements to be slow and not show how intimidated he had felt in that moment. Iron Bull walked a bit away from the battle site, Gabriel following internally wary, but externally relaxed.

“And there’s one other thing. Might be useful, might piss you off. Ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?”

_ Yes. Iucundus liked to think himself a great tactician, and always had something to say about the war. He said that if he knew all the details about his opponent he could defeat them. Really though that slug was just using research to get out of real fights.  _ Gabriel remembered the many times the old Magister had ranted at him about the ‘barbaric’ Qunari destroying the ‘glorious empire’. How it always dissolved into beatings, as if Gabriel were the reason the war was happening at all.  “No, who are they?” He stayed outwardly affable, while he worked over what The Iron Bull was inferring. Why would he tell Gabriel that he was a spy? It was either idiotic, or brilliant. While blowing his cover, it would also make the Inquisition grow complacent as they thought they knew all there was to him.  _ But more importantly, what is he willing to say about himself?  _

“It’s a Qunari order. They handle information, loyalty, security, all of it. Spies, basically. Or, well,  _ we’re  _ spies,” he replied simply. “The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the breach. Magic like that could cause trouble everywhere. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to those in charge, and send in reports on what’s happening. But I also  _ get  _ reports from Ben-Hassrath agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, I’ll share them with your people.” 

Gabriel was a bit dumbfounded.  _ He’s telling me everything…  _ Gabe liked to think he was very good at judging people’s intentions–bred from years of living in a place where being around a person in the wrong mood could get him killed–and yet he couldn’t understand his Qunari. It set him on edge, and he kept his walls up high around his true feelings.

“Why are you willing to tell me all this? Seems like a pretty stupid thing to do.” Gabriel joked, playing dumb.

“Whatever happened at that Conclave thing, it’s bad. Someone needs to get that breach closed. So whatever I am, I’m on your side. Besides, I’d’ve been tipped sooner or later. Probably sooner from how suspicious you’re pretending not to be. Better you hear it right up front from me.” The Iron Bull smiled as he called Gabriel out on his acting. Gabe started in surprise. He had heard that the Ben-Hassrath were good, but he’d never thought he could be read so easily.

The Iron Bull laughed. “Don’t get too worried, you’re harder to read than most. An average person would never know, but Ben-Hassrath are _ far _ above average.” Gabriel blinked in surprise at Bull’s words.  _ He read me like a book.  _ He weighed his assets.  _ Being able to judge people that well could definitely be useful to the Inquisition. _

“Alright, you and your men are hired. Just make sure you run all your reports by Leliana before they’re sent. One wrong move and you’re gone though. We clear?” Gabriel had dropped all pretences, his voice cold and his eyes narrowed in a clear threat.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Iron Bull grinned calling for his men to pack up. There was some moaning and grumbling about already open barrels, but it was more in a friendly disappointment than angry. While Gabriel wished to delay returning to Haven, he knew the breach posed a greater threat than his own discomfort around his not-sister. The Qunari’s interest proved that what happened with the tear in the veil affected everyone. He wanted to curse or sigh, but instead resumed his jovial mask and wandered over to the others to say they were heading back.  _ Back to business.  _ He thought.  _ Time to get shit done. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's both really easy and super hard to write from Gabe's perspective! :P  
>  Sorry this chapter is super late by the way (if you didn't notice I like to post a new chapter every Friday), I was super sick last week. I may have just messed up my schedule terribly...but I'll try to get back on track, things should move faster the next few chapters.


	12. Chapter 12

**Gabriel Lavellan**

He ran a hand through his long brown hair in annoyance as the others bickered around him. Gabriel had returned to Haven with the intent of simply speaking with his advisors about siding with the mages, and then heading back out for Redcliffe. Yet things had merely devolved into arguments after he told them what had transpired. Cullen and Cassandra wanted to help the Templars, Leliana didn't want to just leave the Tevinters in Redcliffe, Josephine thought both sides were valid but difficult, and Gabriel just had a headache.

“Enough!” He moaned as another debate got fired up. “Let's just talk tomorrow, I can't take any more.” He flopped dramatically onto the war table face-first. If he was lucky, he could drown in that big lake in Orlais, whatever the scribbly text said it was called. His swimming was so poor that he was sure that he could sink through paper.

“Now is not the time to be petulant, Herald,” Cassandra admonished. Gabriel moaned again over being called Herald. He had yet to break Cassandra of using the title.

“I believe Lavellan may have a point. We are getting nowhere as we are. A new day will hopefully bring new perspective, “ Leliana said. Gabriel gave a muffled ‘yay’ before straightening.

“Does that mean I can go?” he asked hopefully. Leliana smirked and nodded.

“But we _will_ continue this tomorrow.” Cassandra huffed with her usual scowl.

“Well than, ladies, gentleman, have a good evening.” He gave a mock bow and backed up for a dramatic exit. Misjudging the distance to the door, he only managed to spin around about halfway before smacking his shoulder and the side of his face on the wood. Blushing, he hurriedly made his leave.

They had gotten back to Haven mid afternoon, but the sun was just disappearing behind the mountains as Gabriel left the Chantry. He stopped by the tavern for a quick bite to eat chatting with some of the Inquisition soldiers there. However, he kept one eye on the door in case not-Azrael walked in and he need to beat a quick escape. When the men and woman he had been talking with finally stopped calling him Herald, he counted it as his win for the day and went to bed.

He carefully opened the door to his cabin and peered inside, silently praying _she_ was not there. The first thing he noticed was that her bed wasn’t there anymore. She had taken her things and left. He almost felt that she had taken the warmth out of the small room, making it lose the once-comforting and welcoming air it once held. He lit a small fire in the hearth and took off his armor before curling up on the too soft mattress. It was odd how everything felt that much more empty without the soft breathing of his sister nearby. Gabriel bit back his sadness, telling himself it was without reason, and fell into a fitful sleep.

He awoke late that night in a cold sweat, a shout on his lips. The nightmare was fading fast, but he could recall falling. It was almost a memory. He could remember the ground rushing up to meet him as a grinning face watched from the window above. Yet this time the fall was not one someone could survive, and the person in the window had been him as his sister fell away from his outstretched hand. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. _That’s never going to happen._ He thought, trying to reassure himself. _She’s not- can’t be- your sister. My real sister is gone. Right?...A walk might clear my thoughts._ He got up from his bed and strode out into the night. The air was bitter cold and he cast a gentle fire rune to keep himself warm. Few people were up at the late hour, just two or three guards keeping watch over the slumbering village. He decided to just take a lap around and headed down towards to lake.

As he approached the main gate he caught sight of a figure perched on the wall. Head tilted back to watch the stars, the elf sat languidly atop the stones, singing softly.  Gabriel stopped and stared, recognizing it to be his not-sister.

 

_We push, and we pull_

_and one of these days, it’s all going to break, tug of war_

_no one wins_

_but the wounds are rubbed raw, and this robes wearing thin_

_and soon it won’t matter if you blame me_

_soon it won’t matter if you hear_

_‘cause there’s no room to breath when you’re choked by the weeds_

_and solace is all that I need_

_so we give this a chance_

_but we always end up in this horrible dance_

_still we fight, for the years_

_but the loss overwhelmed, by these frustrated tears_

_and I walk away feeling so lonely_

_and though you walk on by my side_

_I can’t seem to reach you across this divide_

_and solace is nowhere in sight_

_solace is nowhere in sight_

_and oh, oh, oh_

_for once could it be easy_

_and oh, oh, oh_

_could you try to appease me_

_could you try_

_‘cause soon it won’t matter if you love me_

_soon it won’t matter if you heed_

_‘cause you give what you want to, and not what I need_

_and you say that you’re here, but I fear you mislead_

_and I wonder how much more a spirit can bleed_

_when solace is all that I need_

_solace is all that I need_

_and oh, oh, oh_

_for once could it be easy_

_and oh, oh, oh_

_could you try to appease me_

_could you try_

_‘cause soon it won’t matter that I love you_

_soon I’ll let go of the line_

_so reach me before we are just too far behind_

_and show me it’s solace we’ll find_

_we push, and we pull_

_and one of these days, it’s all going to break_

 

Her voice was so devastatingly sad he found himself hurriedly wiping away tears. Gabriel couldn’t take it and turned away, not wanting to hear if she sang more. He practically sprinted back to his cabin, feet silent from years of hunting. The door slammed behind him as he fell onto the bed. _Evil things can’t be that sad, can they? What if it’s part of the trick?....But she couldn’t have known I would come... she wasn’t singing for me._ He groaned in frustration, his heart tearing apart to see his twin so broken and doing nothing to help. _Fenhedis lasa, it’s probably even my fault. No! I can’t feel bad! She’s not...could she be...she’s_ **_not_ ** _! Vishante fucking kaffas!_

Gabriel slept very little the rest of the night, haunted by his uncertainty and general anxiety. As he stood in the war room the following morning to continue the meeting, he could feel his exhaustion shortening his temper.

Cullen slammed his fist on the table. “We don't have the manpower to take the castle! Either we find another way in, or we give up this nonsense and go get the templars.”

“Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister!” Cassandra replied heatedly. “This cannot be allow this to stand.”

“The letter from Alexius asked for Heral-” Gabriel gave her a sad little frown. Josephine coughed and corrected herself. “Lavellan by name. It is an obvious trap.”

“So what if it’s a trap!” Gabriel said throwing up his hands in annoyance. “We’re well prepared for a fight, and know what will happen. Besides, we have to side with the mages. They have the best chance of closing the breach.”

“The Templars could-” Cullen started.

“That’s just speculation! We don’t know it for sure.” Gabriel interrupted.

“We don’t truly know about the mages either! Besides, whether we are prepared or not, Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults!” Cullen vehemently replied. “If you go in there, you’ll die. And we’ll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won’t allow it.”

“Yet if we don’t even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power at our doorstep!” Leliana interjected.

“Look, we’ve been talking in circles! We don’t need to assault the fortress! It clearly wouldn’t work.” Gabriel practically growled. “We need stealth for this mission. If Leliana can get some men in and take out Alexius’ guards, we would be golden.”

“Our spies can’t exactly walk through the front door.” Cullen said sullenly.

“Wait.” Leliana broke in. “There is a secret passage into the castle. An escape route for the family. It would be too narrow for an army, but I could send my agents through as you suggest.”

“It wouldn’t work. They’d be detected before they reached the Magister.” Cassandra scoffed.

“That’s where the envoy Alexius wants so badly comes in.” Gabriel said triumphantly. “We cause a distraction, while you break the defenses.”

“It’s a huge risk…” Cullen said, mulling over the strategy.

The door to the war room slammed open. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here to help,” Dorian announced. Gabriel jumped a good foot into the air in surprise, lightning sparking at his fingertips. “There’s no need for that.” Dorian chided Gabriel playfully, taking a step closer. “My grand entrances are flashy enough as it is.”

Gabriel’s entire body grew stiff in apprehension and his mouth turned down into a tight frown at having an Altus so close. Dorian’s smile faltered at his reaction but before anything more could happen, a scout came rushing in, having tailed the Altus.

“This man says he has information about the Magister and his methods, Commander.” He said breathlessly. Cullen nodded to the scout, and everyone’s eyes turned to Dorian.

“Your spies will never get past Alexius’s magic without my help,” the altus said. “So if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

“Why would you do this? I don’t understand what you gain in helping us.” Gabriel said.

“I’m hoping to save the already fractured reputation of my homeland, and hopefully an old friend as well.” Dorian replied evenly, though clearly annoyed. “I’m not helping to _gain_ anything, but because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Impossible.” Gabriel dismissed.

“So you assume everyone from Tevinter to be evil then? I can assure you that is untrue.”

Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen all that those from Tevinter are capable of. And guess what? My experience has taught me that you lot never do something to help just because ‘ _it’s the right thing to do._ ’” He declared, glaring daggers at Dorian. The Altus himself scowled back.

“You-”  His was voice raised in anger and a hand came up to gesticulate a point. He froze however as Gabriel flinched back violently. Gabriel immediately straightened and looked away, berating himself internally. He thought he had gotten over flinching at loud voices and potential strikes, but apparently not. Cullen coughed awkwardly.

“The, um, plan… it puts you in the most danger. So we can’t, in good conscience, order you to do this. If you would rather, we can still go after the Templars, but it’s up to you.” The Commander offered, clearly unsure how to break the tension between the two mages. Gabriel shuffled nervously on his feet and, biting his lip, resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair in frustration. The mages would be much more useful in closing the Breach, and he couldn’t just leave them to be used by the Magister. No matter how much he disliked the idea of working with Dorian, he really was the only one who could help. _Fuck me._ He thought in exasperation and heaved a heavy sigh.

“We’ll side with the mages. If your men can be ready, Leliana, I would like to leave today.” She nodded and Gabriel glanced over at Dorian. “Are you ready to travel?” he asked grudgingly.

“If I must.” Dorian said with as much consternation as possible, yet a smile tugged at his lips. _He’s handsome when he smiles…_ Gabriel thought idly, and immediately blinked in surprise.

“I have to go.” He said hurriedly, leaving the war room. _Go and slam my head into something hard. If I’m lucky, It’ll kill me._

 

The shadow of Redcliffe castle loomed over them as they climbed the last few steps to the main entrance. While it might once have been a welcoming place, it appeared to Gabriel that the closer he got to the stone fortresses the colder the air became. It made him rethink only bringing Dorian, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric, instead of just taking everyone he could. The message from Alexius had only called for him though, and bringing a few others was pushing it enough. Saying he was okay with walking into a trap and actually going through with it were very different things. Standing before the massive doors with only three people on his side made Gabriel realize just how close he could be to dying. _Good thing there’s a back up so the world doesn’t fall to shit if I do die here._ He thought sardonically recalling his conversation with Leliana before he left.

After packing and asking those he wanted to accompany him if they were willing, he had drawn the spymaster aside to speak privately.

“Leliana there is something you need to know about my sister. I have reason to believe she may be possessed.” Leliana stiffened at his words.

“What do you want done?”

“Nothing! … For now, at least. I don’t know for sure exactly what is wrong.”

“But you do think there is something? Why?”

“Lots of little things,” he said evasively, not ready to reveal everything. “She does have some power over rifts, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. If I die at Redcliffe, she will be your best option at closing the Breach. However, I don’t know if her power comes from her being a demon, or something else. So I guess, just be careful with her.”

“I understand Lavellan, and I assume since you wished to speak to me alone, you would like to keep this quiet?”

“I don’t know what the others will think, but I know you will make the most logical decision,” he said simply before thanking her and leaving. He just hoped it was the right thing to do.

Deciding to not delay the inevitable, Gabriel pushed open the large doors and strode into Redcliffe castle. Two Tevinter guards stood just inside the main entrance and he approached them with as much false bravado as he could muster.

“Good evening gentlemen! Would one of you care to tell Alexius we have arrived?” He cheerily greeted them. Another man came hurrying down the stair upon hearing his voice.

“The invitation was for Master Lavellan _only_. The rest of you must wait here.” He said sternly.

“I’m sorry, but these are my advisors. I couldn’t make any important negotiation choices without them. You understand of course?” Gabriel phrased the question so that there was no room for disagreement. The man looked like he had just sucked on a lemon, but nodded.

“This way please.” He bit out, motioning them up the stairs and into the grand hall. The guards not so quietly followed behind.

“My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived.” The man bowed before moving aside to reveal Alexius lounging in the Arl’s grand chair in front of a grand fireplace. Felix stood next to the right hand side, looking paler than anyone Gabriel had ever met. Finally at the foot of the stairs to the throne stood Fiona, wringing her hands nervously. _How many stairs can one building have?_ thought Gabriel. _Seems more pretentious than anything, so you can always have a place to stand above people._ Alexius emplified this fact by standing, as to tower over Gabriel and the others.

“My _friend_ ! It’s so good to see you again.” He beamed down at him, but his voice was anything but warm. “And your associates, of course.” It was more of an afterthought, rather than a real welcome. “I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is _equatable_ to all parties.”

“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?” Fiona strode forward angrily.

“Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.” The Magister replied with a heavily implied threat hanging off the syllables.

“She understands her people better than us, Alexius. I say she joins the discussion. Her input would be invaluable to making sure the mages themselves would be happy with our agreement. It is _their_ help I need.” Gabriel said, smile still wide on his face.

“Thank you.” Fiona sighed with no small degree of relief. Alexius turned to sit back on his throne.

“The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and _I_ have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?”

Gabriel shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m honestly at a loss. What do you get the man who has everything? I was thinking the ability to time travel, but you already have that. Oh! What about a fanatical group of people dedicated to restoring old Tevinter!” he said excitedly, before snapping his fingers and frowning, “Nope, you have that too, huh? Whatever are we going to do?” His voice practically dripped sarcasm.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.” Alexius laughed, yet his hands curled into fists upon the armrests of the tall chair.

“He knows everything, father.” Felix answered instead.

“Felix, what have you done?” The Magister’s voice had gone far too cold to just be fatherly disapproval.

“Being a good a son and not let his father destroy the world, is my guess,” said Gabriel. Alexius finally dropped his mask of pleasantry.

“Do you know what you are?”

“A handsome Dalish mage?” He interjected, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. The Magister practically jumped to his feet.

“You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark- a gift you don’t even deserve- and think you’re in control?” he sneered. “You’re nothing but a mistake!”

“I’m pretty sure my mother _wanted_ a child, actually.”

“You are a fool to take this so lightly! That mark belongs to your betters, and he will come to take it back!” Alexius was practically frothing at the mouth in anger.

“Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?” Felix pleaded. His desperation made Gabriel sober up some. This wasn’t just about him bothering a Magister.

“He sounds exactly like the villainous cliché everyone _expects_ us to be.” Dorian strode into the hall, confidently walking to stand next to Gabe. His gaze flicked over to Gabriel as he said the words, sending a jolt of guilt through the elf as he remembered their last conversation.

“Dorian,” Alexius said with disappointed anger. “I gave you a chance to be part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.” Gabriel hid his surprise at hearing the name of the Magister’s superior. _That’s what not-Az said the Venatori called Cor.. Coryphee… Coryphinuts? Close enough._

“So you serve this Elder One? Why aren’t I talking with _him_?” Gabriel questioned.

“Soon he will become a god, he was no time for someone like you. he will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.” Alexius raved.

“You can’t involve my people in this!” Fiona shouted in outrage.

“Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about _never_ wanting to happen! Why would you support this?” Dorian exclaimed.

“Stop it father, give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let’s go home.” Felix begged.

“No! It’s the only way. Felix, he can save you!” Alexius stared his son down.

“Save me?” Felix said angrily.

“There _is_ a way. The Elder One promised. If I undo the mistake at the temple…”

“I’m going to die. You need to accept that.” Felix replied sadly. Alexius turned away from his son’s pleading gaze.

“Seize them Venatori! The Elder One demands this man’s life!” At his words however the last of his men fell the floor dead. Inquisition scouts took up their posts around the room.

“Your men are dead Alexius.” Gabriel proclaimed.

“You… are a mistake! You never should have existed!” Alexius’s hand began to glow as an amulet rose above his hand. Suddenly everything became a blur of action. Dorian threw a spell at the Magister with a shout, and Gabriel reached for his own staff. The amulet came flying toward him though, and as was his habit with terribly dangerous magical items, he caught it. A hand grabbed onto his arm, and suddenly everything went black.

 

**Cassandra Pentaghast**

The hall was flooded with a blinding green flash, that faded just as fast as it had come. Cassandra, blinking against her temporary blindness, instinctively leapt to grasp the Herald, whether to pull him from danger or to reassure herself that he was safe. Her hand closed on empty air. The shadows were hastily blinked away. Where the Herald once stood, there was only the charred stone floor. _No…_

Screaming in rage, she unsheathed her sword and charged.

 

**Leliana**

The message from the crow was all Leliana needed. She ordered the abomination, formerly known as Azrael Lavellan, into the dungeon where she was to be restrained and contained until further notice. The “girl” struggled once she realized something was off, but this was expected, and a swift blow to the head knocked her out cold. The spymaster could only pray that the bonds would hold her.

She slammed open the door to the war table. Josephine and Cullen were already there. Cullen was mindlessly demanding they take action, Josie was wiping away tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Leliana refused to allow her own tears to fall. Tevinter has taken another chosen by the Maker, and they must pay retribution. But first things first…

“The Herald came to me before he left,” she began, capturing the attention of the other two. “He told me that he believes that his sister is not who she seems.”

“Leliana, this is not a time to discuss family–” Cullen tried to cut in, but she continued.

“She is an abomination, somehow related to the rift. Perhaps a demon possessed her in the Conclave and caused the explosion. What matters however is that she can close rifts.”

“What?” Josephine exclaimed, “Azrael is such a sweet girl, she couldn’t possibly–”

“Demons take any form that best suits their needs.” Cullen interrupted. “They can lie better than any person could. It must be dealt with.”

“But what if it’s the _demon_ that allows her to close rifts? We wouldn’t be able to close the Breach if we removed it.” Josephine countered.

“Letting that thing anywhere near the Breach would be a mistake. It could easily make things worse.” Cullen argued. “The demon must be expelled. We can only pray that Lady Lavellan retains the power to seal rifts.”

“Vivienne could go into the fade and perform a purge. But if the demon is strong enough to create the Breach, I fear she may not be strong enough” Leliana said coldly.

“Are you suggesting we _kill_ her?!” Josephine gasped in shock. “She could be our only hope!”

“You don’t know that!” Leliana replied. “Solas seemed to be surprisingly knowledgeable for a self-taught apostate. Eventually, another like him will surely resurface. Even if they do not, every Circle and College is studying the Rifts as we speak. I am confident that they will find something of worth.”

“So you are justifying destroying the only tool we _know_ we have for baseless hope and speculation?” Josephine scoffed.

“I have more faith in them than a _demon_.”

They turned to look at Cullen, who sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “... We can’t have a demon with this sort of power. Who knows when it will turn against us? We can’t risk it.” Leliana nodded, and the three grimly made their way to the dungeon.

The abomination was awake was awake and stared out at them as they approached. Light reflected off its eyes, though natural to elves, it almost looked like its eyes were glowing rift green.

“Leliana, Josie, Cullen, what’s going on? Why am I in the dungeon?” It asked, voice trembling.

_It puts on a good show_ , Leliana thought.

“We’ve come to end this, demon.” Cullen said reaching for his sword as Leliana took out the cell keys.

“What!? I’m not– Please, you don’t understand! Where’s Gabe?”

“He didn’t make it…” said Josephine quietly.

“You don’t need to be here Josephine if it makes you uncomfortable.” Leliana said to her old friend.

“Didn’t make it? But he...This is the bad future! Please I’m not what you think I am! I can try to fix this! I know what will happen, Gabriel isn’t dead! He was sent forward in time!” The demon rambled, and Leliana tuned it out. Josephine shook her head stubbornly as Cullen advanced.

“Please! Please, don’t do this!” The demon began to sob. “I’m your friend! I don’t want to hurt you! I only want to help!” Sickly light began crackling through its tattoos and a blast of magic sent Cullen sprawling back into the cell wall. He thrust forward a spell purge, and it gasped in agony as if punched in the abdomen.

Leliana took out a dagger. “Enough of this.” She stalked into the cell, grabbed the demon by the hair, and slit its throat. It fell to the floor, gurgling, and a pool of blood swiftly spreading across the floor.

“Prepare the troops. They may come to Haven next.” Leliana ordered, steel in her voice, and eyes cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update was so delayed, but hey, it's twice as long as a normal chapter! :D  
> The song is Solace by Cyra Morgans. It's a super sad and wonderful song you should most certainly listen to (I also like the puns it has for a Solas romance).


	13. Chapter 13

**Gabriel Lavellan**

Panic clenched Gabriel’s heart the moment he became submerged in the murky water. He spun himself, thrashing his arms in an attempt to pull himself upward. Instead, it had the opposite effect, and his back hit stone floor. “Fuck!” he tried to scream, but it only allowed for the filthy water to flood his mouth. Then, a hand grasped him by the shoulder and yanked him spluttering and gagging to the surface.

“Goodness!” Dorian chuckled as he helped Gabriel steady himself. “It’s only been a minute, and I come to the rescue already?” Gabriel only scowled. The water was only halfway up his abdomen!  _ Fenhedis, I’m pathetic _ he thought, unintentionally ignoring Dorian’s question.

“Did you hear me?” The altus took the elf by the chin and studied his face. Gabriel nearly pulled away, but froze when he saw the concerned look on the other’s face.

“No…?” he quietly said, nervously chewing his lip.

“I asked if you were alright. Who knows how the amulet’s magic would affect you?”

Gabriel flicked his eyes away and gently pulled Dorian’s hand from his face. “I’m fine.” His gaze landed on the bodies of two Venatori guards. One was slightly smoking. “Was that you?” he asked.

Dorian grinned. “Naturally. It was quite the show you missed. Magnificent work on my part!”

“Oh...thanks,” he said distractedly, gazing around the room. Something was profoundly wrong. Red lyrium sprouted from the crumbling stone walls of what might have once been a storeroom, but was now filled with nothing but old decaying debris. The very air felt polluted, and corrupted magic weighed down on him from every direction. “Where are we?”

“Right into the big questions I see. Though not what Alexius probably intended, the rift moved us...to where though? The closes confluence of arcane energy?” Dorian mused wandering around the room, examining it. 

“The stone is the same as in Redcliffe Castle, though I doubt that Alexius would simply allow his new stronghold to fall into such disrepair.”

“Let’s see… If we’re still in the castle, it isn’t… Oh! Of Course!” He spun to face Gabriel. “It’s not simply where– it’s when! Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!”

“We’re in the future then, like…” Gabriel’s words trailed off  _ Like what not-Az said would happen…   _ His mind flashed back to when he was about to disembark for Redcliffe. She had run up to him and practically dragged him away from the others, pleading that she come with him. He had simply shrugged her off, not deigning to even respond to her.

“If you go to Redcliffe, Alexius will send you one year into a future where you never close the breach and Corypheus takes over everything! It will be horrible and I don’t want you to have to suffer that alone like I had to!” She demanded, sadness turning into anger at his dismissal. 

He had simply brushed past her and left without saying a word. He gulped, hoping for the best and expecting the worst. “How do we get back?”

“An excellent question! Perhaps if we had the amulet I could modify it to open a rift back. The magic however is highly experimental. It might work, but it might also turn us into paste... Let’s look around, see where the rift took us exactly.  _ Then _ we can figure out how to get back… if we can.”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all.” Gabriel remarked sarcastically. Dorian smirked.

“I guess you are feeling alright after all.” He said taking a key from his pocket and advancing on the door to the room.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked, following close behind.

“That was the first scathingly sarcastic remark you’ve made since we got here. I was beginning to worry.” Dorian didn’t look back at him as he opened the door and proceded down the corridor of closed cells. Gabriel felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t truly meant to be terrible to the Altus, but every time they talked he had already been upset and had let that get the better of him.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You didn’t really do anything, and I just took my hostilities out on you.” It was hard to say, but with a more level head, Gabriel knew it to be true. He may dislike the man still, but if they were going to work together Gabe would at least need to be civil. Dorian did turn back to look at him this time.

“It’s not the first time I’ve ever had someone hold my heritage against me, and it won’t be the last. No need to worry your pretty little head over it.” He said blithely.

“Still…I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it.”

“How about a nice, cliché, start over?” Dorian offered his hand. “Dorian Pavus, formerly of Minrathous, pleasure to meet you.” Gabriel laughed and shook his hand.

“Gabriel Lavellan, the pleasure is mine.”

“Good. Now, shall we see about leaving this fantastically horrible place?”

They pushed on through the decrid dungeons, carefully avoiding the tainted lyrium. There were times where they had to carefully step around large crystals blocking their path, and the song that permeated the air burned itself into Gabriel’s skin as the crystals brushed along his sleeve. The lower cells held nothing, yet in the upper cells was an elf. Gabriel tried to ask him what was going on, but he would only babble “Andraste blessed me” over and over. The other cells held a mountain of bones and dead bodies partially eaten away by red lyrium. Dorian and Gabriel shared an uneasy look and decided it was best to keep moving.

Up the stairs was a raised drawbridge and two doors that led back down into different parts of the dungeon. There was also two guards, but the mages dispatched the Venatori with ease. Picking a side at random, Gabriel headed down to the left. They found no one else until the reached the lowest cell. Half-encased in the glowing rock, Grand Enchanter Fiona leaned heavily against the wall. Hearing them approach, she turned, eyes wide in a fear that quickly turned into surprise.

“You’re… alive?” she gasped weakly. “How? I saw you… disappear… into the rift.” Her voice was distorted oddly, and she had to take deep breaths between each word she spoke.

“By the Creators.” Gabriel breathed, staring at the display in horror. “What happened to you?”

“Red lyrium… it’s a disease. The longer you’re near it… eventually… you become  _ this _ . Then they mine your corpse for more.”

“Can you tell us the date?” Dorian asked urgently. “It’s very important.”

“Harvestmere… 9:42 Dragon.” She gasped out.

“Nine forty- _ two?  _ We’ve missed an entire year.” Dorian’s voice was amazed, but Gabriel could only feel dread.

“It’s  _ only  _ been a year? How could this all have happened in  _ one year? _ ” He shook his head in disbelief. “This… We have to go back.” 

“Please… stop this from happening. Alexius... serves the Elder One. More powerful… than the Maker… no one... challenges him and lives.” Fiona pleaded.

“I’ll do what I can, I promise. Is there anything we can do help you now though?” Gabriel asked gently.

“I am... too far… gone. Your companions… those at the Castle when… you left... and your spymaster, Leliana… are here. Find them. Quickly… before the Elder One… learns of your… survival.” She leaned her head heavily against the wall, wheezing. Gabriel didn’t know whether to feel sad, or terrified. Fiona was clearly close to death, what would his friends be like?

“We should check out the cells on the other side,” he said.

“Agreed. If we have to go further into this monstrosity, which I am beginning to think we will, back up would be wonderful.” Dorian nodded. As quickly as they could, they headed back to the draw bridge and headed down the eastern side. Gabriel hoped what they found would be better, but was realizing that he would need to start being pessimistic if he wanted to survive in this place.

“If red lyrium is an infection… Maker, why is it coming out of the walls?” Dorian said more to himself than to Gabriel.

“The world itself is tainted. The lyrium is feeding on the latent corruption in the air.”

“Then are we already…?” Dorian asked, clearly not wanting to finish that thought. Gabriel shrugged.

“I don’t know how it works really. Perhaps it would be best if we tried not to breath.”

“Well that’s reassuring.” 

Gabriel’s reply died in his throat as he heard a familiar voice from beyond the next door.

“The light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water...”

Hurriedly he swung open the door and gazed around hurriedly until he spotted the woman sitting slumped in the cell across from the door.

“Cassandra…” He breathed. She looked so defeated, face downcast and voice more pleading than prayerful. Her head lifted at his voice, and hope shown through the red glinting in her eyes.

“You’ve returned to us. Can it be? Has Andraste given us another chance?” Her voice was distorted like Fiona’s had been, though she was not yet as far gone. Gabriel moved to unlock the cell dismaying at the aura of taint surrounding Cassandra. He could think of no cure for red lyrium. “Maker forgive me, I failed you. I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life.” She breatehd.

“I’m not dead Cassandra, not yet at least. We were sent forward in time.” Gabriel crouches down before her and places a hand on her shoulder that pulses with healing magic. “See? Still solid and magical. Can you stand?”

“Of course.” She huffs defiantly and rises, brushing off his hand. “You do not need to heal me, it is unnecessary. But you said time travel? Does that mean you can make sure none of this ever happens?”

“If we can get to Alexius, than we may indeed be able to return to the present.” Dorian interjects.

“That’s the plan at least. Are you up to helping us?” Gabriel asked concerned.

“I will do what I can to help end this.” She declared. Gabriel nodded reluctantly. Cassandra was obviously unwell, but they couldn’t afford to turn down her help and simply leave her. As they left the room and approached the next, a humming could be heard. Gabriel tried to steel his heart over seeing another of his friends slowly dying as he opened the door. Varric jumped to his feet as soon as they entered.

“Andraste’s sacred knickers! You’re alive Joker?” The dwarf smiled widely at him as he unlocked the cell. “Where were you? How did you escape?”

“We didn’t escape. Alexius sent us into the future.” Dorian explained.

“Everything that happens to you is weird.” Varric chuckled.

“I feel like I may have argued with you once upon a time, but honestly my life has been over a hundred different types of weird these days.” Gabriel lamented, attempting to find his normal sarcastic levity.

“C’mon, I’m always right, and when I’m not, I lie about it. So what brings you to this neck of the woods? I’m assuming you didn’t come back to just trade quips with me.”

“I can not understand how you can be so… jovial, at time like this, Varric!” Cassandra hissed at the dwarf.

“Hey, it’s making the kid feel better and that’s all that matters.” Varric grinned and winked a Gabriel, who realized that his words were true. His easy smile and familiar mannerisms had calmed Gabriel down without him even realizing.

“Back to the question,” Dorian said, redirecting the conversation. “If we can get to Alexius, I just  _ might  _ be able to return us to our own time. Simple really.”

“That may not be as easy as you think. Alexius is just a servant. His ‘Elder One’ assassinated the Empress and led a demon army in a huge invasion of the south. The Elder One rules everything. What’s left of it anyhow. Anyway, Alexius… is really not the one you need to worry about.” Varric explained.

“Well, shit. Let’s hope we don’t run into him than before we can get back. You in Varric?” Gabriel joked.

“You bet your ass I am. Either your crazy, or I am, but it’s a nice thought. Plus I always did want to go out in a blaze of glory rather than in a damp cell.”

They found Bianca in the next cell over, which was both wonderful and terrible in how little care she had gotten over the years. They continued on to the next door and peered inside. Solas stood with his face to the wall, hands folded behind his back in thought. At the sound of their footsteps he turned.

“You’re alive? We saw you die!” He exclaimed as Gabriel unlocked his cell.

“The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak.” Dorian explained.

“Can you reverse the process? You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late…” Solas’s words came out in an excited rush. It was bizarre for Gabriel to see the man whom he knew normally to be calm and composed, show such obvious emotion.

“You grasped that faster than I did. Do you think you could help reverse it? You know a great deal more about magic than I do.” Gabriel admitted.

“You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong. But you know nothing of this world. It is far worse than you understand. I do not know this magic, and I am too far into the corruption to help.” His voice was suddenly both terribly sad and old. As if he had been stewing over his mistakes for far longer than just a year. It made Gabriel think back to not… maybe-Az’s statement about him. For in that moment he truly appeared to be an immortal weighed down by time and poor choices.

“It’s alright Solas, there wasn’t much you could have done to stop this. You may be wise, but you are not all knowing. Do you think you could at least help us get to Alexius?” Gabriel attempted to reassure him.

“If there is any hope, any way to save them… My life is yours. This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass.” 

“ _ Hahren _ , do not throw away your life because you could not stop this. Fight to change it.” Gabriel wasn’t sure where the words came from. It was more Azrael's style to be serious and give pep talks, and yet Solas’s tone had worried him. He was just so...defeated. The Solas he had been growing to be friends with had never seemed like someone who would just quit. The other elf grinned faintly at his words.

“Perhaps you are right,  _ da-len.  _ I shall endeavor to survive.”

 

Their small entourage headed back out of the dungeons and across the drawbridge, aiming deeper into castle. The others said that Alexius should be in the throne room, but to get there meant traversing most of the castle. Through disgusting kitchens and broken halls they fought their way into the torture chambers. They were too late to save a Chantry sister, and Gabriel hardened himself to losing whoever else they might find in the next room as well. Hoping for the element of surprise, he blasted down the door with a bolt of lightning and ran into the room. The guard turned at the sudden intrusion, allowing the prison who was suspended by her hands to lift her legs around his neck and twist. Leliana had killed him.  _ Or what’s left of Leliana, she looks more skeletal than human. _

“You’re alive!” She exclaimed, yet unlike the others there was no hope in her tone, only a brief moment of surprise. Gabriel gently lowered her from the shackles, sending healing magic to help strengthen her limbs.

“And so are you. Which is definitely more remarkable than my own survival.” He said jokingly.

“No, you are the one who can end this. Do you have weapons?”

“Only what we’ve scavenged, but I’m sure I have something you could use.” He said taking the daggers and bow he had found and kept. It wasn’t hoarding, they were useful. She took the bow.

“Good. The Magister’s probably in his chambers.” She brushed past him to search through the chest by the door.

“You aren’t curious how we got here?” Dorian asked in confusion. “It rather explains a lot.”

“No.” She said simply.

“We were sent into the future.” Dorian explained anyway. “If we can get to Alexius, we can reverse the spell and make this all never happen.”

“And mages always wonder why people fear them… No one should have this power.” Leliana rebuked.

“It’s dangerous and unpredictable. Before the breach, nothing we did-”

“Enough!” Leliana interrupted what might have been a rant from Dorian. “This is all pretend to you. Some future you hope will never exist. I suffered. The world suffered. It was real.” She turned abruptly and stalked down the hall without waiting to see if the others would follow. Gabriel jogged to catch up with her. 

“What about Az? What happened when she tried to close the Breach?” He asked, voice quiet so as to keep the conversation between them alone.

“We never let that thing near the Breach. I slew it before more harm could be done.”

“What?” He stuttered out, stopping dead in his tracks. “It...she could have...You killed her?” His voice was barely above a whisper at his last words. Of all the possibilities he had never thought that Leliana would… Whatever she was, Azrael had been benevolent. Helping out whenever possible and working to save as many people as she came across. However much he distrusted her story, he never wanted her to die. At some level she had still been his sister hadn’t she? She could have been saved, somehow, there was some way, but now there was nothing to save. Someone he had trusted to be an ally, killed his sister.

“-llan? Gabriel? Are you alright?” Dorian was in his personal space again, and Gabriel can’t remember how he got there. His vision is oddly blurry, the castle is shaking, he can’t catch his breath, and his sister is dead.

“You gotta breath kid. C’mon Joker, we need you.” Varric places a gentle hand on Gabriel’s elbow and takes in an exaggerated breath. Gabriel copies him, thankful for the dwarf’s semi-familiar presence. He takes several more deliberately slow breaths and tries to focus himself on being calm, but it doesn’t seem to be working. As soon as he tries to focus on something other than steady breathing he finds he can’t take in any air at all.  _ I need to be calm. I have to go back and fix this. All of this won’t happen so long as I calm down!  _ His attempts to forcefully calm down only made his panic grow further. Suddenly from the darkness of his mind he remembers a familiar song.

_ Elgara vallas, da'len  _

_ Melava somniar  _

_ Mala tara aravas _

_ Ara ma'desen melar  _

The voice of his mother mixes with that of Azrael as he concentrates on the memories. It had been their lullaby and the song they had always sung to feel safe. He sings along in his mind, cancelling out the background noise of his worried companions.

_ Iras ma ghilas, da'len  _

_ Ara ma'nedan ashir  _

_ Dirthara lothlenan'as  _

_ Bal emma mala dir  _

He recalled the strong embrace of his mother, the gentle warmth of his sister, the comfort of knowing he was not alone. Neither he nor Azrael had ever sung this song for the Magister, nor for anyone else. It had been the only thing they truly owned for a very long time.

_ Tel'enfenim, da'len  _

_ Irassal ma ghilas  _

_ Ma garas mir renan  _

_ Ara ma'athlan vhenas  _

_ Ara ma'athlan vhenas  _

As the song ends he focuses back in on the present. He is sat on the cold stone, his head buried in his curled up knees. A hand on his shoulder and one rubbing small circles in his back are sending reassuring calm magic into his system, and another hand rests carefully on his knee. He glances up and slowly uncurls. Varric and Solas remove their hands as he stands, but Dorian keeps his at Gabriel’s back to steady him. Gabriel does his best to politely shrug it off and runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hasn’t had a breakdown this bad since his time in Tevinter.

“So, um, thanks. Let’s keep going. Still gotta save the world and all that.” He grins half-heartedly, but thankfully no one calls him out on the freakout. Leliana probably told them what she had said to him…

They push on through the castle, facing down any Venatori they come across. Gabriel tries his best to joke with Varric and lighten the mood, but the dwarf seems unable to conjure real smiles much these days. The others eye him with a mixture of pity and hope, and it makes his stomach churn with indignant anger. He doesn’t want their pity, and he’s not worth their hope. Dorian seems to be the only one acting how Gabriel would expect him to, but it’s a small comfort. 

The courtyard takes his breath away. It looks as if the fade has merged with reality, but very poorly. Everything feels hazy and wrong. He battles through the enemies as quickly as he can and heads back inside.

Finally the reach the what was once the great hall. As much as Gabriel wants to simply destroy the door to the old Arl’s reception room and find Alexius, a large rift opens in the room and diverts his attention. His concentration is split between the demons, Venatori, and the door, and so Gabriel barely has time to dodge before a sword is swinging down toward him. In his distraction he failed to notice the man drawing near, and an ugly red river opens up in his side. He manages to close the rift, but his legs crumble as it rips the last vestiges of strength from him.

“Woah there!” Says a voice by his ear as strong arms hold him up. “I’m all for beautiful men swooning into my arms, but I normally prefer they aren’t bleeding to death.” Dorian chuckles. Gabriel flinches away from the man and brings a hand up to his wound, doing his best to close it.

“Good thing no one is swooning.” Not his best retort, but Gabriel is more than a little frazzled. He does his best to walk with a steady stride to investigate the door to Alexius. It appears to be sealed by an odd mechanism that radiates corrupt magic more strongly than the surrounding area. Using the edge of his staff he sends a few questions bursts of magic through it, hoping to undo the enchantment. It doesn’t budge.

“Varric, do you think this is even remotely pickable?” He asks.

“No way. This is no ordinary padlock Joker. Way above my paygrade.” The dwarf replies shaking his head.

“There must be some way to open it. Alexius wouldn’t just leave himself without a way to open his own safe room.” Dorian muses.

“Then there must be a key around here. Perhaps one of the guards?” Cassandra speculates.

“It would hardly be any ordinary key. There appear to be several slots in this that react to magical signature.” Solas added.

“Something like this?” Varric ventured taking a small pendant embedded with a crystal of red lyrium. “I did a little looting”

“Yes!” Dorian exclaims, snatching it up and pressing it into the door. It lights up slightly before fading away. “We may need more than one.” He says dejectedly.

“And here I was beginning to worry we wouldn’t scour the entire castle. My dreams are all coming true.” Gabriel says bitterly storming off to explore the other end of the fortress.

“More like nightmare.” Leliana says quietly.

 

Gabriel does his best to disconnect from the the carnage as he and his companions storm through the west side of the castle. He knows they are the enemy, but most of the Venatori they come across bare the looks of haunted men. Dark circles beneath their sad eyes, and skeletal thin, some of them don’t even fight. Those that don’t throw themselves on their own sword, rave and seem more mad than evil. This world hasn’t even been good for those on the winning side.  _ Maybe there isn’t a winning side. The world died, and we all lost. _

Finally however they gather what they think should be the last crystal and hurry back to the door. This time the light spreads out from the keys forming a line down the center of the stone door that parts, allowing the two halves to swing inwards.

There is no more grand throne or guards in the inner hall. Just Alexius standing before a large fire and a figure crouched in the shadows by his side.

“Was it worth it Alexius? Is this hellscape all you wanted it to be?” Gabriel snarls.

“I just wanted to save my son, I never… I knew you would appear again. Not that it would be now, but I knew I hadn’t destroyed you. My final failure.” Alexius speaks into the fire, head bowed. “But it doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end.”

“If you have even half a grain a sense left, give us the amulet so we can fix this.” Gabriel replied. Alexius merely laughs.

“The irony that you should appear  _ now,  _ of all the possibilities. All that I fought for, all that i betrayed, and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One comes: for me, for you, for us all.”

Gabriel opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly there is a cry and Leliana is holding a knife to the neck of the man that had been crouching on the floor.

“Felix!” Alexius calls with breathless despair.

“That’s  _ Felix _ ? Maker’s breath Alexius, what have you done?” Dorian exclaims.

“He would have died, Dorian! I  _ saved  _ him!” Alexius tells Dorian, before turning to Leliana. “Please don’t hurt my son. I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Give us the amulet and I promise we won’t touch your son.” Gabriel states, giving Leliana a meaningful look. Alexius nods hurriedly reaching into the pocket of his robe.

“No. He shall suffer as we have.” Leliana says coldly, drawing the knife across Felix’s neck in a swift jerk.  
“No!” Gabriel and Alexius call out at the same time as Felix falls to the floor. Alexius swings his staff, blasting Leliana off her feet with a burst of spirit energy.

Gabriel thought his team was equipped to fight one mage, yet they were all battered and tired from the previous encounters and Alexius was no frightened hedge mage. The magister’s barriers were impeccable and Cassandra could hardly get close enough to land a strike with his staff work. After what seemed like an enternity however his shield fell just in time for one of Varric’s bolts to find it’s home in Alexius heart. He gurgled a sad little noise and fell to the stones. 

“He wanted to die didn’t he.” Said Dorian sadly, crouching before his fallen mentor to retrieve the amulet. “All those lies he told himself, the justifications… He lost Felix a long time ago and didn’t even notice. Oh, Alexius…”

“This isn’t the end, Dorian. We’re going to fix this. We have to.” Gabriel affirmed.

“I suppose that’s true.” He stood and ran a finger along the grooves of the amulet. “This is the same one he used before. I think it’s the same one we made in Minrathous. That’s a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift.” Dorian grinned. 

“An hour? That’s impossible! You must go now!” Leliana shouted. Suddenly the world shook as if before the footsteps of some great beast. The battle had taken far longer than they had time for. “The Elder One.” Leliana breathed his name is raging fear.

“We’ve got this Joker. We can keep them off your back long enough for Sparkler to get you out.” Varric grinned up at him. Gabriel however knew it for the suicide mission it was and stared up in horror into the faces of his friends.

“You can’t! There has to be another way.” He pleaded.

“It will be alright  _ lethallan _ .” Solas reassured.

“It was an honor to fight by your side.” Cassandra nodded stoically

“We’re already dead. The only way we live is if this day never comes.” Leliana stated, turning to follow the others. “Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows.” The door closed behind his companions, Leliana their last line of defense. Dorian retreated to the far end of the room, pouring magic into the amulet. Gabriel stood frozen as the sound of fighting grew nearer and the castle shook ominously.

“Though the darkness closes, I am shielded by flame.” Leliana recited, deadly calm as she drew her bow. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as the door trembled against some great force. With a sickening crack it fell, filling the room with chaos as demons swarmed in. Beyond the entrance, Gabriel saw the bodies of his friends strewn about like broken dolls. Leliana released arrow after arrow, downing the demons nearly as fast as they came, keeping up her prayer. Suddenly an arrow blew past her defenses and struck her shoulder. Gabriel lurched forward, wanting desperately to fly across the room and save her. Despite what she had done to his sister, she didn’t deserve to die like this. A hand clamped down on his arm.

“You move, and we all die.” Dorian ground out desperately, all his focus on the amulet. Leliana had run out of arrows, swatting valiantly at anything that approached. Gabriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as he heard the familiar sound of a rift opening behind him. A shade wrapped it’s arms around Leliana, digging sharp claws into her shoulders and restraining her. A terror demon drew back it’s stick like arm and raked it across her abdomen, tearing armor and flesh like warm wax. Gabriel screamed in horror and suddenly a force was pulling him back and away, his vision swimming with green lightning.

There was warmth in the world again, and he he could no longer feel the oppressive air laden with heavy magic. Alexius stood before him once again, eyes wide in shock. A still hale and mentally stable Felix at his side.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” Dorian said cockily, but his voice wavered slightly, not oblivious to what had just transpired. Alexius merely sank to his knees in defeat. It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Song~  
> Mir Da'len Somniar  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zl3CmzQY1So
> 
> ~Translation~  
> Sun sets, little one,  
>  Time to dream  
>  Your mind journeys,  
>  But I will hold you here
> 
> Where will you go, little one  
>  Lost to me in sleep?  
>  Seek truth in a forgotten land  
>  Deep with in your heart
> 
> Never fear, little one,  
>  Wherever you shall go  
>  Follow my voice  
>  I will call you home  
>  I will call you home
> 
> Holy walnuts this took me ages to write! Mostly because shit hit the fan in my life, but whatever... My wonderful beta Jubb-Jubb (check them out on Tumblr!) got a concussion and couldn't edit, so if there are mistakes please let me know so I can fix them.


	14. Chapter 14

**Azrael Lavellan**

**(While Gabriel went to the Storm Coast)**

Azrael’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists as she watches Gabriel ride away.  _ Run away _ she thinks scathingly. All her sadness and despair from their confrontation at Redcliffe had curdled into a mass of anger that coursed red hot through her veins. All she could think of was tearing after Gabe so she could shake some much needed sense into him. She also knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Turning away from the path leading out of Haven, Azrael headed for the training dummies by the barracks. Even if she couldn’t smack her twin around she was still in the mood to beat up something.

Picking up a blunted training sword, she hacked away until her muscles burned and her breathing turned into gasps. Yet still the anger burned away in her heart at her brother’s betrayal. Bringing it all to the surface, she raised her hand to the dummy and watched as it burst into flame. She blinked in surprise and took a step back.  _ How did I…? I was just so angry…  _ She flexed her hand experimentally, willing the fire to die back down. To her further amazement it did, the fire in her dying with it.  _ Well that was weird.  _ She had never before felt such an all consuming hatred before. Sure she had gotten angry, but this was new, this was…  _ Rage,  _ she realized. For a moment she had channeled the fire of a demon. A shot of panic surged through her and she looked around frantically to see if anyone had noticed, but thankfully no one seemed to have found anything to be out of the ordinary. Dropping the practice sword abruptly, she hurried away from the still smoldering ashes of the dummy.

_ What is happening to me?  _ She thought desperately looking down at her hands, half expecting them to be dripping lava.  _ If Gabe hadn't already left I could have… I just don't know enough about being a spirit! But then I'm not really a spirit either, I’m...something else.  _ Sighing defeatedly she looked up to notice her feet had carried her over to Solas’s cabin. It didn't look like he was in, nor was he lurking outside to contemplate the breach, so she plonked herself down and dangled her feet over the small ledge. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back to feel the sun as she thought things over.

What she couldn't understand was why her magic was so unstable. During her time in the fade everything was fine, she was balanced. But know she was ruled by her emotions like a hormonal teenager. Everything was felt to the extreme and her magic reacted to it. It terrified her that she had no control. There was just no guarantee she wouldn't hurt her friends. What she really needed was someone to talk to about it all. 

“Good evening  _ da’len _ .” Solas’s voice broke through her musings.  _ Speak of the Dread Wolf.  _ She cracked her eyes open a slit to gaze up at him like lazy cat.

“On  _ dhea'lam _ to you as well  _ da’len _ .” She replied, lips quirking into a grin as his brow furrowed in confusion. “Call me what you wished to be called. I do not appreciate being looked down upon.” She had despised being called a child by her crush before, but had never had the courage to bring it up lest it push him away. But now she had the freedom to fully speak her mind.

“My apologies _ lethal’lan _ . It was not my intention to offend.” He paused as if considering his next words carefully. She sat up fully to give him her direct attention. “Is there a reason you are outside my cabin?” He asked finally.

“Well…”  _ How to phrase this without being obvious?  _ “I wanted to know more about spirits.”

His brows shot up in delighted surprise. “There is a rather large breadth of information in that subject. What in particular do you want to know?”

“Perhaps you should sit. This might be a long conversation considering I want to know everything.” He chuckled lightly and took the offered space by her. Azrael felt the familiar flutter of her heart at his proximity, but quickly shoved it back down.  _ Now is not the time for that. _

“First, let us see what you do know. It would be a waste to repeat what you already know.”

“Hmmm…” She shifted pensively. What did she know? “Spirits are the manifestations of emotion within the fade. They must act out that emotion to stay as they are. Therefore people perceive spirits as being good and evil where spirits themselves are neither. Compassion and Love are no more morally right than Rage and Despair. However because people do not understand them they push their perceptions of spirits onto them, forcing a change. The fear of a demon can twist a normally docile spirit into the monster they expect. Spirits however are used to the malleability of the fade and so  become confused when they  come onto our side of the veil. They are twisted into the demons we see coming out the rifts by the constraints of reality. Spirits also can not truly die. Their essence can become fractured so much as to no longer be a whole being, but those pieces will grow back into a spirit of a similar nature. Though I suppose it is a kind of death considering how a spirit can develop personality which will not come back after they have been broken,” She stopped for a breath and contemplated her words, “Yeah, that’s all I know.”

Solas merely stared her for a moment with an expression she could not place. While she liked being able to make him drop his passive mask, it was nicer when she could read what the emotion was.

She reached up and smoothed her hair back behind her ear in an old nervous tick. “Have I said something wrong?” Az asked worriedly snapping Solas out of his intense stare.

“On the contrary,  _ lethal’lan _ . All that you have said is the truth. I apologize for staring, but I was shocked. I have not met someone with such knowledge for a long time.” He replied. “Where did you learn all of this?”

“I’ve spent some time traveling in the fade and it’s amazing how eager spirits are to gossip. For a while, I also had a very good teacher.” She smiled at him, laughing at her inside joke.

“I would dearly like to meet this teacher of yours and discuss with both you and them. May I ask where they are now?”

Her smile fell away.  _ Sitting right here in front of me, and yet, also so far far away.  _ “He’s gone now.” She said flatly.

“ _ Ir abelas _ , I did not mean to bring up bad memories. You were asking about spirits and it seems I’ve drawn us away from the topic. Shall I tell you some of my experiences so we may compare?”

She gave him a nod and a small smile which he returned before launching into a tale of an ancient battle he had seen played out by spirits. Soon they were swapping stories back and forth of all the memories they had seen in old ruins and forgotten places. It was pleasant and familiar in a way that squeezed her heart and stole her breath. It had been years since she had this sort of interaction with Solas back in her time, but his tales had always been one of her favorite things. It had started out with her simply wanting to know more about the past and the fade, but she quickly found herself drawn in by his words. He had a way of speaking that wove phrases into art and poetry so perfectly she could almost hear music dancing behind the words. It was for this reason she sought him out more and more to draw her mind off of the downward spiraling of events.

The conversation tapered off as Azrael ran out of tales of her own to share. She had only had access to the fade in her dreams for a short time and most of her stories she had taken from Cole or Solas himself. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice and instead assumed they had merely dreamed in the same place. In the silence that followed the end of Azrael’s last retelling of Cole’s exploits at Skyhold (while being horribly vague and smudging the details so as to be indistinguishable if the same events were to unfold again) she asked:

“How can some spirits stay so true to what they are? I never once saw Compassion change to be anything but himself no matter what others thought.”

“I have found that the nature of a spirit revolves entirely upon its actions. Hope does not become Despair until it stops seeking to make things better. Faith does not become Doubt until speaks against its beliefs. Protection does not become Rage until it seeks to harm those under its protection.”

“How does a spirit know what it is?” She asked in a quiet voice that was more whispered worry than actual question.

“In all my wanderings, I have yet to find a suitable answer to that. It has appeared to be so far, that a spirit simply knows.” Solas replied in a solely dissatisfied voice.

“But then what happens if a spirit does not know what it is?” Her voice is still whisper soft and Solas turned to her, mild worry in his eyes.

“Is something wrong,  _ lethal’lan _ ?”

“I-”  _ Recover woman! Don’t let him see you fall apart.  _ “I, um, met an odd spirit. She didn’t know what she was and I’m worried for her.”  _ Yes, good, spirits friends always throw him off.  _

“Perhaps it is the same spirit I encountered. If so, it seems however you have gotten more from it than I have.”

“Ah, the mystery spirit you mentioned earlier? It didn’t occur to me that they could be the same one. Was she, well, a she?” Az asked, trying to perhaps hear more about his interpretations of herself. They had talked about it before of course, but anything could help.

“It took a female shape yes. But, I have another question for you, if you do not mind.”

She cocked her head to the side curiously. His tone was light enough, but there was something off. It sounded like he had won something, but didn’t want to sound too smug.

“Yeah, shoot. I’m an open book.”

“It concerns the time when we talked about this spirit last. You acted as if you knew not the difference between a spirit and demon. Yet now you seem to have a wealth of knowledge, many experiences, and a mystery teacher. Why did you lie  _ da’hale _ ?”

She froze as ice washed through her veins. Since she had come back, Azrael had been thinking of Solas as somehow being less. She had been distancing herself as best she could with thoughts of these people not being  _ her  _ people. But 7 years with her didn't make them who they are, those events happened long before she fell out of the sky into her lives. Even longer for Solas. She couldn't afford to think of him as being less than who she knew. She couldn't even think of him as she had when they first met. This was the man she had fought against for 5 years. Who had helped to kill some of her friends, if only indirectly. Who was incredibly dangerous. Her mind worked a mile a minute as she switched her thought process back to that of a general out in the field of war.

“I lied because I do not know you  _ ha’fen. _ Partly I came here, now, to remedy that. I have learned that it is far too easy to be hurt when you trust the wrong things to the wrong people. The conversation that followed the lie proved that you are worth this truth.” Her voice was carefully even and her face neutral.

“I see.” He replied, the faintest shadow of an intrigued smile  pulling at his lips. “Have I perhaps won any other truths,  _ da’hale _ ?”

“Ah,  _ ha’fen.”  _ She said chidingly, her own smile returning. “You have won nothing. For I have learned a great deal about you, and you simply have more questions.” With a sly wink she stood and strode away, trying all the way to contain her laughter. The look of startled indignation that crossed his face was just too much.

 

**~The moment Gabriel left for Redcliffe~**

“If you go to Redcliffe, Alexius will send you one year into a future where you never close the breach and Corypheus takes over everything! It will be horrible and I don’t want you to have to suffer that alone like I had to!” She begged Gabriel desperately, clinging to his arm like a drowning man to the last vestige of wood. She was here to change things wasn't she? So why wasn't anything going any better? If he would just listen!

“Get away from me,” Gabriel bit back coldly and ripped her hands away, practically throwing her onto the ground. Without looking back, he stalked away from her and mounted his horse alongside the others to ride off to what she knew would be the first of many nightmares.

She watched them go for a long time. Even after their forms disappeared around the furthest bend. Yet life in Haven progressed as normal around her. It felt wrong to her that something so terrible would be happening soon, but no one could be bothered to care. She wondered briefly if she would have to live through and remember this false future, or if her brother would simply return with the mages more haunted then when he left.

Heavy footsteps came up behind her and she shifted just enough to see the large expanse of grey skin that made up The Iron Bull’s chest. She tilted her head up to look him in the face.

“They’ll come back. Besides, if they do die, that argument didn’t change the way he looked at you,” he said in his familiar deep rumble.

“What?” she replied a little confused. “His eyes could have thrown daggers. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“Nah. The boss still likes you. Would have actually thrown you down otherwise.”

“Huh… Who are you to be such an expert on  _ my  _ brother?” she asked, turning to face him fully, a cross expression on her face.

“Name's The Iron Bull. Your brother hired my mercenary troop back at the Storm Coast.” A giant hand, larger than her head, was stretched out for her to shake. She placed her hand within his and marveled at how dainty it appeared enfolded within his. She'd always felt small next the mountain of a Qunari. But unlike the majority of humans who used their size to loom and lord over her, he had always been so careful. A gentle giant as it were, who was always at her back. Back in the clan she was used to being the heavy hitter. The one thrown out in front of the others to protect and shield. It had been odd at first to have another who was so willing to take hits meant for her. When she finally opened up to him in her old time, she found a keen mind behind the muscles. His ability to read her, and willingness to offer comfort, led to him becoming as close a friend as Dorian.

She remembered the last time she saw them both at the gates of Skyhold before they left for Tevinter after a visit. The Iron Bull’s strong arms holding her in a gentle hug accompanied by the smell of warmth and leather and the faint spice of Dorian. There was a familiar safety in his embrace that promised protection and support that she always missed when he was gone. She had joked about his stupid lack of shirt almost poking her eye out, and made him swear to talk to her with Dorian’s crystal. Her eyes had teared up a bit and Dorian had wrapped her up in his own hug declaring how he hated such melodramatics when they would certainly see each other again soon. Bull and scooped them both up and lifted their feet from the stones. Dorian had squawked in false outrage, and she had laughed so hard her chest still hurt even after they were gone.They hadn’t really even said goodbye.

Dorian had used the crystal to call her every weekend to recall the events that had transpired between their absence like usual, Bull chiming in with his own outrageous tidbits from the background. It should have been a normal conversation, but in the middle of her recounting a stupid story about stealing tiny cakes from the kitchens, there had been a noise on the other side. Dorian had assured her it was probably nothing, but he should go and see.

“Probably just Maevaris breaking in to tell me another dreadful account of the current politics I missed by talking to you for two minutes. Give me a moment Dove, I’ll leave the connection open.”

There had been the gentle sounds of him getting up and walking away and she had turned away to look at the mess of papers scattered across her desk. The tranquil silence was shattered by the sound of a scream of pain. Her head had shot up, and then back down to stare at the crystal in horror. A door slammed on the other side and she could hear Dorian and Bull saying something in the back too quietly to hear. She was about to inquire, when the noise of a door being broken down came clearly through, and fighting ensued. She had sat frozen in place, her mind blank as the horrible sounds of Bull’s roaring, blades cutting flesh, the crackling of fireballs, shouts in Qunlat, and finally silence. She held her breath, not daring to make a sound that would make her miss something vital. Footsteps then, heavy and slightly dragging as they drew near with ragged breath. A faint rattling as the crystal was picked up.

“Bull?’ she had enquired, voice too high. 

“I’m sorry boss I couldn’t…” His voice was wet as it trailed off  in coughing and something heavy hit the floor. A gentle dragging and rustling of cloth. “The city’s overrun. We…” More coughing. All she could think was how broken his voice sounded. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t saying it to her. Silence. The connection broke.

 

Her eyes refocused slowly for a moment then snapped into heightened focus. Her gaze darted around looking for danger, her heart raced, and her muscles tensed, as she strained to hear the fading sounds of The Iron Bull’s voice.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re here, not there. Take a deep breath and focus on my voice.” Bull said calmly. Her gaze darted over to him. He had taken a step back and out of her space, hands held up to show her he was unarmed.

“I- I- I’m so….” Her own voice cut off as she once more heard his dying words over her own.

“It’s fine, nothing to be sorry for. Tell me what you saw. It’ll hurt, but it’ll help.” She let his soothing voice roll over and ground her as she took a deep rattling breath.

“They died. I just sat there and listened to them die, and I could do nothing.” Even in her frazzled state with the words to describe her horror trying to crawl out of her throat, she refrained.

“Okay. Now just look at me. I’m right here, and so are you. You’re not wherever that was.” She bobbed her head up and down, before taking a few more slow breaths and looking around Haven.  _ He’s right. I’m here and now. Gabe is heading to Redcliffe. I’m at Haven. Solas is still here. The Inquisition is still here. I can change things. I can do this.  _ She repeated her mantra over a few times before, finally, she looked at Bull again.

“Great first introduction, huh? I’m Azrael Lavellan by the way. Thanks for...that,” she said awkwardly with a little broken smile.

“It’s no trouble. Plenty of people have had bad experiences with Qunari. Nothing to be ashamed off. We’re a scary bunch.” He grinned back at her. It made the broken pieces of her heart both tremble in joy and ache in despair for what she had lost.

“So… who’s in your troop?” She queried, knowing Bull would happily expound on the members of his Chargers for a bit. It gave her something else to focus on as he reintroduced the old faces. She also knew that Bull saw what she was doing, and was even more grateful that he simply went with it and brought her over to the others.

She spent the rest of the afternoon chatting amicably with the Chargers. Before she hadn’t had the time to grow close to any of them as they both had their separate missions, but she found she liked their company quite a bit. Something about the easy companionship and light topics of conversation eased out her stress and removed her mind from puzzling over more complex matters. As the sun set, the group of them headed into the tavern where Az proceeded to wipe the floor with them at a game of Wicked Grace. It was with a lighter heart she headed back to the cottage for the evening. Stepping over the threshold though, she was hit by the reminder that this wasn't her room any longer. She had been so angry when Gabriel had left to get The Iron Bull she had moved her things out of his space. And now she had forgotten that this wasn't her time. One moment of happiness and she had forgotten her purpose… Perhaps this was what Solas meant in some way by a distraction. You can't focus on the bad choices ahead when you're so happy. Maybe she shouldn't try to…  _ No!  _ She couldn't think like that. She couldn't think like  _ him.  _ Storming away to the empty cabin across from Solas's she had taken up as her own, she nearly slammed the door behind her. She needed her people to get through what was to come, and trying to avoid them either from panic or fear of being happy would get her nowhere. The need for them to be happy and live long lives was why she was here, and not something to forget. What she needed was a focus. Not just to center her spirit self and magic, but to ground her to a goal that encompassed all that she needed to do. She fell asleep to possibilities whirling around in her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, this took way longer than it should have... Sorry about that. I'm going to try and get back into the swing of writing regularly so hopefully I'll go back to a chapter a week. Thank you all so much for sticking with this though, and I promise the plot will pick up the pace soon. There are many fun and evil things I have planned.
> 
> ~Elvish~  
> da'len - little one (diminutive used for children)  
> dhea'lam - evening (as in good evening)  
> lethal’lan - friend (clan-mate, feminine)  
> Ir abelas - I'm sorry  
> da’hale - little fox (The diminutive here is for familiarity and to emphasize the tricksy nature of the fox. A big thanks to Xpelt for finding this!)  
> ha’fen - old wolf (A reply to both being called little and a smart animal. Calling someone a wolf implies that they are not fully trusted in Dalish culture, but Az here uses it as part of her own inside joke.)


End file.
